EarthBound: ReBound
by Fabricati Diem
Summary: An oddly epic retelling. What if... The Chosen were college age? What if... Ness disliked being called Ness? What if... The War Against Giygas was more than what we saw? PG-13 for violent scenes.
1. Bye Bye, Buzz Buzz

**EarthBound: ReBound**

**(An Oddly epic retelling)**

_By Fabricati_

**Chapter One: Bye-Bye, Buzz Buzz.**

The year is 199X.

The town is a small, backwoods place in Eagleland, known as Onett to its few and boring inhabitants. It's a town like any other town, with a drugstore, a bakery, a police force, and a gang of local toughs.

But now, to move north, along a small dirt road, to a set of houses along the side of a hill. This is where the Fullerby family lives- a typical family, doing typical family things- well, as typical as it gets when the father of the house does top-secret government research, and can't be home often.

It is a clear night outside. The stars are shining... but one particular star seems to be growing larger... and larger...

_Wha-booom_! Elliot Fullerby was jolted out of his bed. "Whass uva?" was the best he could manage. 

He shook his head slightly to clear the sleep from it. It didn't work too well. He looked at the clock. Midnight. Of all the things... He had an exam in Chem. 101 in the morning. Elliot supposed he'd better check on the rest of his family, so he got up.

He looked about like anyone is supposed to look, having just gotten out of bed- he was still in a set of seersucker pajamas, with light blue stripes. He blinked, and plodded barefoot to the door.

Elliot waved a hand in the general direction of the hall light, but the light was already on. Apparently, his younger sister Tracy had been woken up too, but she had had the presence of mind to get properly dressed first. "Mrfgl..." Elliot said, in the kindest way possible.

"Hey, Big Bro? You know what just happened?" 

"I dunno..." Elliot stood, blinking at the light. "But I think I'll go see."

He walked down the stairs into the living room. It looked like his mother had been up for a while, worrying about something. "Elliot, dear, do you know what that crashing was?"

"No. It wasn't an earthquake, was it?" 

Elliot's mother shook her head. "Was too long to be as mild as it was and still be an earthquake."

"I suppose I'd better check it out, then."

Elliot's mother lifted an eyebrow. "Perhaps you'd better change first."

"Why? It's midnight. Not like anyone else is going to be in anything but jammies at this hour anyway."

"True as that is, many of them aren't as holey as thou's."

"Ow." Elliot put a hand to his temple. "Okay, I'll go up and change... Ugh... that was terrible..."

The headache that Elliot had persisted, even after the change in clothes. He made a mental note to put down 'Aspirin' in the next week's shopping. He looked at himself in the mirror. He had his lucky stripy shirt, which had faded long ago, with his leather jacket and blue jeans. Fine, comfortable stuff for use anywhere. Without another word to his mother, Elliot walked out the front door. It was 12:04 AM.

The police gave Elliot his first clue that all was not right on top of the nearby hill.

He saw someone else looking up to the police line. "Hey."

"Huh? Oh, it's you."

"Yeah. What's up?"

"Apparently something crashed into the top of that hill... And I'm gonna be the first to see it."

"Good luck with that."

"Sure, man." They gave a brief thumbs-up to one another as Elliot walked off on his own hike up the hill.

Halfway up the trail, Elliot caught sight of several people talking, suffused with a red glow. One of them looked like-

"Is that Dad? Yo, Dad!" Elliot yelled to the hill. Either his father didn't want to speak to him; or he was too caught up in the discussion. He didn't respond. The first time in a month that Elliot had seen his father, and his father hadn't responded. That important. Elliot wanted more than ever to see what was on top of that hill. He walked more briskly the most of the rest of the way.

"Psst. Hey. You. Yeah, you." The man who lived near the top of the hill, Lier X. Aggerate, called to Elliot. Elliot ignored him, until Lier finally said, "_Yo, Ness!_"

Elliot cringed at the nickname, especially coming from some bum he barely knew. "What's up? Do you know what's happened?" He said, turning to the bum. And bum indeed he was, with scraggly beard and raggedy, dirty shirt and raggedy, dirty skin, and raggedy dirty- well everything about Lier X. Aggerate was raggedy and dirty, really.

"A meteorite crashed up there. I'm fine. I work out, I eat garlic and spinach. Dunno about some of these people, though."

Elliot could smell it on Lier's breath. "Yeah, sure. See you later."

"Be sure to, Ness!" 

"And for crying out loud, call me Elliot!" He shouted at Lier. He had made it an ironclad rule in his freshman year of high school that only four people got to call him Ness. And none of them were Lier X. Aggerate.

There it was. The police line. Blocking the way, as police lines do.

And of course, in the center of it all... "Pokey. Just great." Pokey, Elliot's former friend and classmate, was desperately trying to find a way past the blockade.

"Pokey, go home."

"Well, if it isn't Elliot," Pokey said, smirking. "Are you here to annoy the cops- I mean, officers?"

"What, like you? No offense, but I'd rather eat glass."

"Aw, still bitter about Cherise?" 

Elliot shrugged. "Meh. You can have her. Just don't come crying to use me as a human shield again." Elliot left it at that, walking back down to the house.

Elliot's mom was already standing outside the house, waiting for him. "Well, what did you find out?"

"I think that Dad's up there."

"Well, no need to tell me everything now. You can tell me in the morning."

"Thank you." Rubbing his temples, Elliot went to bed. He'd get some sleep yet, headache or not!

_It was wet. It was wet, and dark, and there was a vague scent of salt in the air. He'd come this far, but now his courage had died, and he became afraid. Well, no turning back now. A shape passed by his vision. He had the feeling it was someone important who he'd never met. Two other shapes passed his eye, catching his attention, but formless, lost, scattering before a small platform among the water- a shadow on the platform. _

_Horror filled his every breath. A drop of water fell onto his head. It was warm. The first shape turned to face him, and called him Ness, and attacked him. No matter. He kept going. The second shape moved aside, and the third- the third turned his back on the whole affair. The shadow upon the pedestal- it was looking right at him, and then it reared its head back, and laughed. For some reason, the laugh filled Elliot with even more dread. _

_"W-who are you?" What the shadow said was covered in the sounds of the cave collapsing around him, the shattering of stones. And the shadow laughed at Elliot's fear, laughed at his doubt, made Elliot so afraid of it that he would do anything to just escape, but he knew that if he didn't go forward, he would die. _

_With the cave collapsing around him, Elliot was trapped._

Elliot sat up in bed. He hadn't had that dream in a while. Someone was pounding on the front door, and Elliot was covered in cold sweat. Whoever it was changed rhythm and volume almost at random, so as soon as you were used to one part of the knock, another would show up and wake you up. Elliot was trying, by various degrees of stuffing his pillow into his ear, to ignore this knock. Eventually, Elliot gave up on sleep. Still in his street clothes- comfortable jeans with the faded-to-grey striped shirt- he walked out the door to see what the matter was.

His mother and Tracy were both awakened by the noise. "I have a final in the morning."

"Then get the door." Tracy rolled her eyes.

Elliot walked downstairs to get the door. He turned the doorknob and- Pokey burst through the door. "Ness!"

Elliot narrowed his eyes. "What do you want, Pokey?"

"Huh? I don't want anything!"

"Pokey, the only time you ever call me Ness is when you're trying to butter me up for something. So spit it out."

Elliot's mom had come down the stairs. "Mrs. Fullerby, always good to see you. Anyway, Ness-"

"Don't call me Ness-" Elliot muttered under his breath.

Pokey continued as if Elliot hadn't said anything. "The police left suddenly, probably to deal with the Sharks- you know, that gang? Well, I lost Picky! I blame the cops..."

"You would." 

"My parents are coming home any minute! They aren't going to be happy. You gotta help me, buddy!"

"Elliot..." Mrs. Fullerby spoke up. "You're going to the meteorite, aren't you." It was a statement, not a question. "Here, take this." It was a Velcro strap with a small device attached. "Your dad left it behind an hour ago. He has a new project, and he wanted me to record phenomena at the meteorite. You might as well, if you're going."

"Okay." Elliot strapped it on.

"And take Azazel, too. He should be able to handle himself, even if he's not much of an attack dog."

"Fine, but only if he wants to. Azazel?" Elliot looked at Azazel. Azazel gave Elliot all he needed to know by grumphing and going back to sleep.

"That's the verdict." Elliot shrugged. "But I have a feeling you're missing out on something huge, Azazel. Let's go, Pokey." Pokey started to follow Elliot. On his way out, Elliot got a pole that his father had always intended to help make a garden trellis. Something wasn't sitting right with him regarding the outside.

He found out that his hunch was right. The first stray dog he saw tried to jump him. Quickly, he lifted the trellis pole, using it like a staff, flimsy though it was. He shoved away the stray- no, wait, it had a collar and tag, it was a runaway dog- and beaned it on the head with the trellis pole. "Down, boy," Elliot cracked.

It shook its head briefly, and walked off, confused. Elliot grinned and the two walked on, but Elliot got the distinct feeling he was being watched.

The rest of the trek up the hill presented no further incident, but Elliot's apprehension increased. Pokey looked even worse off than Elliot- as if someone were looking over his shoulder, ready to ambush him at any time.

Then Elliot heard someone- someoneÉ snoring. "Snoring?" Elliot took a quick look around. Sure enough, Picky was sleeping. Pokey and Picky were clearly brothers, but it was hard to imagine two people much more different from one another. Elliot stretched a hand out to wake Picky. Picky's face smiled, and Picky grabbed Elliot's wrist. "Ness."

Elliot grinned. "Picky." Picky stood up. He was several years younger than Pokey, and it showed. While Picky was much shorter than Pokey was, he took better care of his body- Pokey had just let himself go ever since his junior year in high school. Both had blonde hair, but Picky's eyes had a green hue to them, while Pokey's were dark blue.

Picky looked at his brother. "And what are you doing here? I thought you ran home to momma." Picky looked back at Elliot. "Oh. Same difference."

Pokey and Elliot winced in unison.

Elliot looked at the Meteorite, pointing the sensor watch at it. He didn't know quite what he was supposed to do with it, but he hoped that was enough.

"Well, this takes care of everything," Elliot said. "Picky, are you ready to go?" 

"Yes."

"Wait," Pokey said. "Do you guys hear a buzzing? LikeÉ a wasp or bee or something like that?"

Elliot paused. If you listened very carefully, there might be a faint sound in the air that maybe- just maybe- might be considered the buzzing of a flying insect. "Now that you mention it"

A beam of light shot up from the meteorite. When it had faded, what looked like a small metallic insect started to buzz around Elliot's head. "Hey! Get off! You stupid bee!"

"A bee I am not!" 

The bee talked. Elliot looked at it in shock, as did Pokey and Picky. "Buzz Buzz is my name." It said, lightly dusting itself off.

Elliot tried very hard to suppress a laugh.

"Ah, yes. Appearance mine is comical to you, Ness?"

Elliot let off a loud curse. "Does everyone know my nickname?"

"Of course not. Zero sent me."

Elliot didn't feel any more assured by this statement. "Who's Zero?"

"I come from ten years in the future, where all is devastation. Giygas, the universal destroyer, has laid waste to the Earth. " The high-pitched voice contrasted with the seriousness of Buzz Buzz's tone. "But- there is a legend- that four stood against Giygas in the beginning of its reign, and failed. These four were unprepared, but they are known as heroes for their sacrifice. You, Ness, are one of these heroes."

Elliot looked around. "You must be mistaken. I'm no hero."

"Hero you are, and Zero has sent me to warn you of the coming time, that you might stop Giygas before its reign begins. To protect you I am, until ready you are to face the coming threat. Until the Nightmare Rock, shattering, reveals the path of light, and you, the Chosen Boy, find your world and your power."

"Wait- You said four stood against this- destroyer. Who are the other three?" 

"We know not for certain... only that they number three, and that they are two males and one female. They are forever enshrined where resistance dwells still within the Earth."

Pokey looked around, quickly. "I'm not one of them, am I?" 

"Familiar you look to my eyes." Buzz Buzz paused, and looked at the pudgy man, hovering an inch from his face. "But- Chosen you are not, for the Chosen did not know each other before the fight. Allay your fears. For now, we must continue."

Buzz Buzz continued to buzz around Elliot's head uncomfortably, enhancing his already nasty headache, as they strolled down the hill. Elliot rubbed his temples as he spoke. "So, this Zero fellow. What's his real name?"

"I know not. He is my Creator, my Programmer." The capital letters fell into place easily. "He did not say much to me beyond my mission. For a year now have I been searching, nearly in vain, for a way to travel here, to my past. More I cannot divulge now, but later you will learn all, when alone we are."

Elliot didn't talk any more as they continued down the hill. As they reached the foot, another beam of light came- but this time, it came from the sky. A thing that looked like a man in a space suit looked at the assembled party. "Well. Three boys and one bee? No- you. Buzz Buzz. You have been a thorn in the side of our Master for far too long, insect. Prepare to die."

Elliot looked at the other two humans in the area. "Pokey! Picky! Hide!" Pokey didn't need telling twice. Picky, however, advanced on the thing, letting it have it. Picky flinched and held his hand. "Ow!"

Elliot felt- something- from Buzz Buzz, and a thin bubble surrounded himself. Another bubble surrounded Picky, and wherever Buzz Buzz was, There was probably a shield around him too. The- Starman, Elliot called it in his mind- no, it was too small to be a Starman, it was the _Son _of a Starman- extended a- pseudopod? Whatever it was, it shot fire towards Elliot. Elliot braced himself, because this was going to hurt. Nothing happened. The fire had bounced harmlessly off the bubble.

Elliot didn't need any further pushing to smack the Son upside the head with the trellis stick. Buzz Buzz rushed straight at the Starman, hitting it in the visor hard. It stumbled backwards, stunned by Buzz Buzz's strength. It came back with another fire burst that faded against the shield. Elliot took this opportunity to advance and hit the Starman in the visor. It cracked, revealing inhuman- nay, inorganic- eyes- more cameras, really. It struck out at Elliot, who jumped backwards to avoid the swipe. Picky was chanting some kind of spell. Elliot knew it wouldn't work.

Buzz Buzz rushed it again, going into one side of the Starman's head- and out the other. Head sparking, it screamed in apparent pain. "Your death is still assured, Insect!" were its final words before falling to the ground, deactivated.

"Such is the way. This thing will not be alone among the evils that the Destroyer will put before us. Mechanical monstrosities like this one. Animals turned aggressive and unafraid by the Destroyer's power. Even humans such as yourself, who have turned to the will of evil within. It is the truth, so listen!"

"Pokey? You can come out now. It's dead." Pokey crawled out of the bush he had been hiding in.

"Okay! Now that we've taken down this- thing- Let's go home!" Picky muttered, "What's this 'we' business?" 

They walked up to Pokey's house. It wasn't all that much bigger, really, than Elliot's. Elliot opened the door, and tried to sneak past Pokey's waiting parents-

To no avail. "What are you two doing out so late! Get to bed, right now!" Pokey's mom said.

Pokey's dad looked at the two of them go upstairs, and followed. There were some sounds of altercation upstairs, and then Pokey's dad came down. "Well, you little hooligan, I hope you're happy." Elliot rolled his eyes. "Don't you roll your eyes at me! I think it would be much better if you and your family moved out. I've loaned your father a lot of money. It may have been a hundred thousand dollars or more."

Elliot stared at Mr. Minch. "You owe my dad twenty bucks. Get over yourself."

"In any case, we live in poverty because of him!"

"Whatever. Can I go now?"

"Yes, by all means, remove your face from my sight."

Elliot turned to leave. It was at that moment that Mrs. Lardna Minch, Pokey's mother, decided to look right at Elliot and scowl. Buzz Buzz decided to alight on her forehead. Mrs. Minch screamed. "_Aieee_!_A bug_!" She smacked Buzz Buzz into a wall. Elliot ran to check on it. Buzz Buzz was badly damaged.

Elliot's head snapped to Lardna. "I'll kill her-" He started to say, but Buzz Buzz interrupted.

"_No_! Not kill! Never kill! Only peace to tortured souls bring. Exorcism, peace, these are your watchwords. Never kill." Buzz Buzz was earnest about this point. "Take this..." He gave Elliot a small marble. Or, at least, that's what it first appeared to be. On closer inspection, it was inlaid with an odd crystalline design. "It is the Sound Stone. With its aid, you must bind yourself to Mother..." Buzz Buzz's speech started to slow. "Find your Sanctuaries. Use the stone to recover energy... There are eight... The first... Giant Step... In Onett. Go there. Do you understand?"

Eliot nodded. "I understand."

"Good. Already, light dawns. But life only dims within me. I am glad I met a hero... Such as you, Ness..." And with those words, Buzz Buzz died. Elliot picked up Buzz Buzz's all-too frail body, and left the Minch household without another word.

Indeed, it was dawn outside. He ran home and collected his backpack, and quickly rushed out the door, putting the body of Buzz Buzz safely inside one of the backpack's pockets, and putting the so-called 'Sound Stone' into his own jeans pocket. Saving the world was all well and good, but he had a Chemistry 101 final to get to.

Two hours later, Elliot left Onett Community College, hating the fact that he had to take a final on one hour's sleep. He blew off his friends, saying he had to do something. "Don't worry, guys. I'll laugh with you tomorrow."

On a small knoll, Elliot took out the body of Buzz Buzz, and made a small cross out of two thick twigs. Elliot looked down at the tiny robotic body in his hands. "Buzz Buzz... I didn't even know who you were, and you didn't know who I was. But you called me a hero. I don't know if I can be a hero yet- heck, I don't even know if I'm this Chosen you talked about. You called me Ness. You called me Chosen, and you called me Hero." Tears welled up in Elliot's eyes, and he nodded as he came to a decision. "Well, Buzz Buzz, I'm going to respect your last wish." He laid Buzz Buzz into the ground, covered over the body, and stood up.

"My next stop is Giant Step!"

End Chapter One


	2. To Be Perfectly Frank

**Chapter Two- To Be Perfectly Frank**

"What do you mean, 'it's closed?'" Elliot looked from one of the men there to the other.

They were clearly clowns. The big, floppy shoes, the red noses, the white face paint- really, that about said it all.

"We mean it's closed," one of them said, "and we can't get back in. The police changed the locks. Said something about vandalism involving the Sharks."

"The Sharks?" Elliot asked.

"You know, that gang of local toughs?" The other replied.

"I know who the Sharks are. The Sharks did this?"

"Last night, apparently."

"That explains the 'Do Not Enter- POLICE LINE' sign on the fence..." The fence was new- new wood, new nails, new everything. It was a hodgepodge, but far too high for Elliot to scale from this side. Elliot nodded to himself. "Where did you say they hang out nowadays? It changes so often..."

"I heard they're hanging out at the arcade."

"I see." Elliot nodded again. "Tell you what. I need to get into Giant Step. So first, I'm going to go have some lunch. Then, I'm going to go have a chat with the Mayor. If that fails, then the least I can do is whack some Sharks for you. How's that sound?"

"Thanks... I think..."

"Don't mention it!" Elliot said as he walked toward the local fast food shop.

"Ah, Burger Joint." Elliot smiled as he walked into the door. Just after he did, another man walked in. He was fat and clearly cared nothing for how he looked- his beard was mangy, his shirt was stained, and he just had this greasy feel to him. At the same time, he didn't seem homeless or a bum.

Elliot had the distinct displeasure of seeing this man cut in front of him in line. Not only that, but the man cussed out the cashier. Elliot sheepishly ordered his food- a burger with a bag of fries and a small soda- and spotted his friends, who appeared to have just started eating. The man was cussing them out too. Elliot sighed, and filled his drink. The man walked up to him. "Hey, I was here first." This was followed by a long string of cussing and death threats. Elliot's friends sniggered in the corner. Elliot calmly turned around, picking up the trellis pole he left on the floor. "Excuse me?" Elliot asked, quietly.

"I said I think you should move." This statement was prefaced, succeeded, and peppered with long strings of cuss words.

"I'm just here for my drink, okay?" The only response was several more cuss words.

"Door's to your right."

"What?" the man said.

"I said the door's to your right." Elliot pointed out the door. "You're clearly in no condition to be civil with people. Go home. Become fit for human habitation again."

"You gonna make me, you little punk? Is that what you're gonna do?" Elliot blinked. The man was starting to turn blue.

"Are you choking, sir?"

"No." The man gave Elliot a brief look.

Elliot nodded, mostly to himself. He was still confused. "Look- get out of my way!" The man finally shouted, running at Elliot. Elliot sidestepped the man, who went full tilt into the drinks machine. The blue color intensified, almost to a glow. Buddy- Elliot didn't know his name- got a crazed, faraway look in his eyes. Buddy's eyes narrowed. "Chosen." It was said with the same tone as some say 'cockroach'. Buddy dived at Elliot and got a smack in the face from the trellis pole for his trouble. He fell to the floor, and the blue aura faded. Buddy looked around blearily. "Huh? How'd I get here?"

Elliot still had his staff raised. "Hey, man, I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry!" Elliot lowered his staff in confusion, and once he did, he'd never seen any man run so fast. Then realization hit him. _Even humans such as yourself, who have turned to the will of evil within._

"What the...?"

One of Elliot's friends tapped him on the shoulder, or tried to. Elliot grabbed the wrist before he could do so. "Untouchable, as always," Elliot's friend noted.

Elliot smiled. "Edison."

Edison smiled back. "Ness."

Elliot sat down to eat. "So... what was with you blowing us off back there? Don't tell me you've got something better than the Untouchables to worry about!" Pryor exclaimed.

Elliot looked right at the youngest of his Untouchables. "Yeah... For one thing, I think I may need to go have a few words with Frank."

"A few words? We should come with, right?"

"No! I don't want turf wars with the Sharks. I don't want a turf war, period."

"Why not?" Pryor said.

"Well, for one thing, outside that old treehouse behind the library, we've got no turf to defend. There's no point. Besides, it's personal. You three need to stay out of it."

"Okay, okay," Pryor said, his hands raised. "We won't get involved. At least take my cap."

"Your lucky cap? Dude! Keep it, man."

"No, you're gonna need it against Frank. If you go up against Frank." Pryor gave the cap to Elliot. "Oh, and if I can suggest something?"

"Yeah?"

"Get a better staff. That thing ain't fit for sticking into the ground." Pryor had a point- the trellis pole was very flimsy, and Elliot was afraid of breaking it.

Elliot's beeper went off, and he picked it up. It was a number he didn't recognize, but the name certainly was familiar. StarLabs. Dad had been called there several times, and usually didn't return for months after he was. Elliot finished what he could of his lunch quickly. His friends gave an understanding nod as he put on the red baseball cap Pryor gave him and headed out the door to find a payphone.

There was one in the drugstore just down the street from the Burger Joint. "You beeped, Dad?"

"Hey, son." Dad's voice was calm. "Your mother told me you still haven't returned the sensor watch she gave you. Can you plug it into a wall jack around there?"

Elliot took a quick look around. The phone had an extra socket. He extended a small wire- probably fed from a spool inside the watch- and plugged in the jack. "Ah! Yes, there it is. It's synchronizing now. Hmmm... what's your savings account number? Oh, yes, I remember now... Let me just enter that... and vóila. You now have an extra eighty dollars in your account for services rendered the Eagleland Government."

"Huh?"

"You're now an investigator of the 'blue aura'. Don't ask me, I've never seen it. But keep it on. I have a feeling you'll be needing the cash."

"Okay."

"And check in with that thing every once in a while. After all, who knows what else it'll pick up?"

"Sure. Well, I'm off to see a mayor about a key. Later, Dad."

"Later, kid." There was a click, and Elliot hung up the receiver. It had long become habit for him to stuff his wallet into his pants before going anywhere- a habit which he now thanked as he swiped his ATM card, and put in the PIN (B-A-T-S) and withdrew the money he needed for a new weapon. He looked over the paltry selection of the general store, and selected a nice, sturdy mop handle. "I'll take this." Elliot paid cash, and tried to fob off the trellis pole. No dice on actual money, but he put it toward a trade on an arm brace that looked pretty sturdy. He hoped fervently that his father wouldn't mind too much.

Now it was time to go to the town hall. He walked past the registration desks where many people were filling out forms to go in files. He asked the secretary if he could see the mayor, and she buzzed him in.

Mayor B.H. Pirkle was the leader of the local political machine, and he looked it. His body had seen better days, better days when the would-be mayor took care of himself, and wasn't bogged down with worries of re-election year after year after year. He had a poorly tailored suit, but a fine bow tie that he wore on all occasions. Currently, he was fiddling with this bow tie as he looked down his long glasses at Elliot from behind his desk. "Giant Step? Well... The Sharks have been causing problems lately. If you could possibly see your way...?

Elliot rolled his eyes at the mayor. "Fine. I was hoping to talk with Frank anyway." He walked calmly out, spinning his staff as he went.

Elliot looked down the street to the game arcade. There were Sharks there, all right. Big ones, little ones, seemingly of all shapes and sizes, but they all looked just the same because of the required look for the Sharks. They all had hats or helmets with a sharp dorsal fin on top.

He spotted the kid who tried for the Meteorite sitting on the curb. "Hey, dude. What's up?"

The kid looked up. "Hey, man. I can't get in to the arcade. Frank's in the back now, thinking about peace and love."

Elliot heard various clanks and ratcheting sounds coming from the behind the fence, and wondered if this kid knew what the heck he was talking about. "Yeah. Thanks for the info, kid."

"No prob."

Elliot knew that what he was going to do next would land most people in hospital. Elliot wasn't most people. He walked right for the arcade at a steady pace. Some of the sharper-eyed Sharks came for him. "Hey, what are you doing here? This is our turf!

"I'm not here for turf. I want a talk with Frank," Elliot said.

"Hey, guys, he wants to talk with Frank!" The collected Sharks sniggered. "What if we told you Frank was busy?"

"This is urgent," Elliot said. "I must speak with Frank." He readied his mop handle.

"Says it's urgent, boys!" The Sharks were still sniggering at him. "Well, Frank ain't talking to nobody, urgent or not."

"Nevertheless, I will speak with him. It's a personal matter, you understand."

"Well, you ain't getting through." The Sharks were readying weapons- small switchblades, bats, some people were even bringing out skateboards, pogo sticks, and hula hoops.

"Before we start, does the name 'Elliot Fullerby' mean anything to you boys?" Right there, some of them dropped their weapons and ran- mostly the ones with the smarter weapons.

The leader of the kids left- clearly one of the junior yes men that Frank had collected- said, quite clearly, "No, it doesn't. Should it?"

A far away voice, probably from one of the retreating Sharks, said, "You'll be sorry..."

"Worth a shot..." Elliot muttered. With that, the juniors of the Sharks started in on Elliot. They were a motley force, but they were mobbing him, giving them a slight advantage. One of the punks on a skateboard ground his way along the wooden fence and tried to drop on top of Elliot. He barely moved out of the way to smack the guy in the stomach, but still got the flat of a skateboard to the face. The boy fell onto one of the middle-schoolers on a pogo stick.

Then some kid who was clearly in high school tried to whack Elliot with _his _skateboard. This was met by Elliot's mop handle, and flipped casually away from the kid. Disarmed, the kid ran to recover his improvised weapon.

The yes-man, having gotten over his fit of laughing at the other Sharks' misfortune, tossed his hula-hoop at Elliot. Elliot deflected the blow with the mop handle, which got a scrape in its laminate. "A scrape...?" Elliot knitted his brows. "Concealed blades!"

"Bingo!" The junior Yes Man said.

"But now you're without a hula-hoop." He smacked the Yes Man on the head with the wood side of the mop handle.

Elliot proceeded to wade through the remaining guard Sharks, mostly by using the mop handle's greater reach to his advantage, swinging it one way, then the next, spinning around once for better momentum a few times. With the Sharks in a rout, Elliot continued to walk to the arcade.

There was one he forgot. The disarmed skate punk was tiptoeing behind Elliot. He raised the skateboard- and got jabbed in the stomach with the metal end of the mop handle. Elliot hadn't even turned around. "It's been done," the Skate Punk said in a weak voice as he collapsed to the ground.

Elliot smiled as he walked into the arcade. He waited a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the weak lighting. Yep, the inside was Shark-infested too. One of the Sharks looked right at Eliot and picked up his skateboard. Some of the others were watching intently.

"You know, you just beat up my friend," The skating punk said, trying to whack him with the skateboard. There was no hesitation on Elliot's part this time- he just smacked the man in the head. The man hit the ground, stunned.

The other Sharks quickly returned to the games they were playing as Elliot scanned the room. All except for one, who was standing guard over the entrance to the back area behind the arcade. He was taller than most, and took up the entire doorway. Elliot looked up at him. "Excuse me, I'd like to talk to Frank.

"Is that so? The Untouchable One wants to visit Frank? Is he, maybe, joining the Sharks?" The tall Shark hadn't moved an inch.

"No." If anything, calling Elliot that had strengthened his resolve.

"Well then, The Untouchable Snob ain't getting in." The bigger man tried to manhandle Elliot, which failed miserably. Elliot idly watched Big Man collapse before going through the doors.

Someone, probably Frank, was busy working on something. What Elliot could see of Frank was dirty- greased over old pinstripe trousers, likely gotten from the Salvies, along with ratty work boots. Various clanks and ratchetings, along with the occasional curse word, floated from Frank's workspace.

"Frank?" Elliot asked, politely. Although he might need to sort Frank out, he had never met the leader of the Sharks in person. Whoever it was didn't respond, though the muffled sounds of putting something together continued.

"Frank?" Elliot asked, a little louder. There was a loud resounding tone, and more curse words came out, muffled by the machine.

"YO, FRANK!" Elliot finally yelled.

"I HEARD YOU! Keep your shirt on!" The sound was muffled, but after a bit more apparent tinkering, some clanks, and another mild cuss word, the man known as Frank closed the aperture and stood up, dropping his tools onto the grass.

Frank was very greasy, which was not surprising. His old, greasy pinstripe trousers were matched by an even greasier pinstriped jacket. He had a mullet, and clearly hadn't shaved in several days. He put on some sunglasses to deal with the increase in light. "And who are you?"

"You should know."

"Oh, I know," Frank said, "But I want to see if you're too stuck up to tell me your name."

"Stuck up? Hardly. I just want this over with. Your boys vandalized Giant Step."

"And they had good reason, too. Don't go there if you value your life."

"I need to go to Giant Step, Frank."

"Then tell me who you are!" With that, Frank quickly stabbed at Elliot and got in proper guard position with his two knives.

"So, you're the one guy who actually knows how to fight, huh?" Elliot smirked. "Just to warn you, I've got one heck of a nasty headache."

"Good. Then this will be easier." Elliot ducked Frank's incoming blow and jabbed Frank in the chin, which was followed by a sweep. Frank lay on the ground, but came up swinging. Elliot swayed away, but not fast enough. Several beads of blood ran down his face.

"Heh. Not so untouchable, are you?" Frank taunted.

Elliot said nothing, but wiped his cheek and struck again. This caught Frank off guard, and he went down. "You're pretty good," he said, rubbing his chin. "But! You won't beat my Frankystein Mark II!" Frank pushed a button on a small remote. The monstrosity that Frank had apparently been working on rolled out from behind the bush. It looked like a human- if humans had a wooden casing with a clunky engine, even clunkier cooling system, and track treads.

"Impressive," Elliot said. "Let me guess- you made it from popsicle sticks?"

"Wait and see, kid." The thing let off a burst of steam as it went through its rapid cooling cycle. Elliot decided to hit it. The wood was already warped, and gave easily. Then he got a sock in the face from the thing. "Augh!" Elliot reeled backwards, and hit it with an upward swing. Some more of the casing broke off. The metal tip of the mop handle was forward now, and Elliot slammed it into the engine as steam hissed around him. There was a bright light, and the mop handle pierced through the fan blade and well into the inner workings of the engine. With a final scream, the Frankystein stopped moving. Elliot extricated the staff.

Frank looked surprised. "Nobody normal could have done what you just did."

"Don't you know? I'm Elliot Fullerby, the Untouchable." Elliot started to leave.

"Ness. Wait."

Elliot turned around, clearly not happy. "Yeah?"

"I know how to use that power. Let me show you." Frank's finger started to glow. Elliot was mesmerized as Frank touched Elliot's forehead. Something clicked, and placed his own hand over his cheek. "Life." The bleeding stopped and the cut vanished. The developing bruise he was getting on the chin disappeared as well.

"But, Frank- if you were psionic-" Elliot didn't know why he used the term 'psionic'. It just felt _right_.

"Why didn't I use it against you? Simple." Frank put his hands in his pockets. "Sometimes, kid, you'll find that the world loses its flavor. That everything fades to grey... PSI isn't a magic pill. Use it wisely."

Elliot nodded slowly. He understood. But there was one thing he didn't understand. "Why Giant Step, Frank? Why not what people see as Untouchable turf, or Jaggie? Giant Step is neutral."

Frank looked away. "Used to be that before you or I were born, Elliot, Giant Step was a place of peace where people performed amazing feats. Then time passed, and the power of Giant Step seemed to fade. Well, I recently discovered it hadn't faded. Rather... the power had flowed into something that even now, guards the Step from intruders."

"I still don't get it, Frank. What does this have to do with vandalizing the shack?"

"The shack's now the only way to get in or out of the Step. This way... nobody's in danger but my crew and me. That's why I did it." Frank looked into Elliot's eyes. "And that's why you're going to the Step, isn't it?"

"In a way, yes. Yes it is." Elliot nodded, and left. He couldn't help feeling a little cheated, though, as he walked out of the arcade. Would he have beaten Frank if Frank had used psionics against him? It gave him something to think about as he walked to the Mayor's office once more.

-End Chapter 2-


	3. Titanic Problem

Chapter 3: The First Titan

The mayor looked at Elliot. "Now, son- can I call you son? - Son, I'm entirely willing to let you open the shack, and go to Giant Step. But it would be very bad for publicity- very bad indeed, you see- if it was said that someone got hurt or died at Giant Step because of my direct orders."

"Get to the point," Elliot interrupted.

"I'll give you the key to the shack if I can avoid responsibility if and/or when the boom drops. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah. Sure. You had no hand in my going to Giant Step. I got the key from the entertainer's locksmith. Whatever, just give me the key before I bust the shack's door down."

"Fine." The Mayor tossed the key across his desk. "Hooligan..."

"I prefer soldier. Sounds nicer, and means almost the same thing, once you think about the actual history." Elliot took the key. "Be seeing you."

"Ugh," Mayor Pirkle muttered as Elliot left. "Is there anything worse than a hooligan who thinks he's clever?"

His assistant rolled his eyes, and said nothing.

Back at the entertainer's shack, the clowns were still waiting. They looked rather anxious.

Elliot handed one of them the key to the shack's changed lock. "Oh, thank God-" He fumbled rather awkwardly and hastily with the key, and both of them ran in and slammed the door in Elliot's face. Considering their rush to get inside, Elliot decided to wait until they saw fit to open the door.

Two minutes later, one of them opened the door, still in greasepaint. "Sorry 'bout that." He certainly looked more relieved. "Would you like to come in?"

"Um, yes, that was the general idea." The clown opened the door.

The place was not in good repair. The roof was leaky, by the looks of the water damage on the ceiling, and the walls were cracked and clearly drafty. There was only one bed and a couch in a split-off area that had to be the bedroom. The stove was beaten up and some of the pipes would have been leaking if not for the corrosion holding them together. Elliot almost fell over as he stepped on a weak place in the floor, cracking the wood off.

"How can you guys live in here?" Elliot muttered to himself.

"Any way we can," the clown said in a sad tone.

"I'm sorry, I have no manners."

"It's no problem," the other clown said, zipping his fly as he entered. "The house isn't worth the land it sits on, and we know it, but it's all we've got. Thanks so much for letting us in."

"You're welcome." Elliot looked around, quickly, hoping, searching for anything that he could say was nice about the run-down shack. It was clear that the entertainers were working hard to rebuild the place- there was shoring, and some drywall had been replaced. There were decorations there too. Some of the decorations didn't match the other decorations, but all the decorations were newer than the rest of the house. The curtains, the linens... They were especially new, and in surprisingly good taste.

"The window-hangings are nice..."

The one who showed Elliot in smiled. "Thanks, but when the real problem's the window, all the dressing in the world won't help." He reached into a drawer while the other started to wipe the makeup off his face. He pulled out a string with a small clay tag looped through it. "Here. Take this."

"What's this?"

"A traveler's safe passage charm. Keeps you moving when nothing else will."

"Hey, thanks. But... It's all you've got." Elliot shook his head. "I can't take it."

"You'll need it in the Step. Trust me." The entertainer shoved the charm into Elliot's hand. "Well? Put it on!"

Elliot still looked apprehensive. "If it bothers you that much... You can bring it back when you get the chance."

"Well... all right." Elliot put on the traveler's charm. "Are you sure-"

"Yes!" the entertainer looked earnestly into Elliot's eyes. "Just- go." Elliot nodded and left through the back door.

The other entertainer looked at him. "He had _it,_ didn't he?"

"I'm not sure. But he has immense amounts of kismet."

"So he is the one, then?"

"Kismet goes two ways, Tom."

Tom looked out the window. "I'm well aware, Carl." He nodded to the private area. "Feel free to change."

Elliot looked into the cave, and quickly became glad he had had the presence of mind to bring his Mig-Lite with him. He took the cap off the flashlight, letting the LEDs illuminate all around him. Once his eyes adjusted, he hung the flashlight on his wrist and started to actually wield the mop handle as opposed to merely hiking with it.

He was expecting twisted monsters. He was expecting huge beasts.

Elliot certainly wasn't expecting a foot-tall mouse to jump at him. Sure, it was big for a mouse... but it was still very small. He was taken off guard, and the thing managed to find a vein. He was vaguely sure he wasn't supposed to be bleeding that much from a bite. He hit the mutated thing in the head with his free hand, which was a bad move, in hindsight. It only made the wound deeper, but it got the mouse off his wrist. He hit the thing in the head again and it started to deflate. It collapsed, apparently tired. Elliot looked at his right wrist. Yep, definitely a burst vein. He placed his other hand on it. "Life." The wound healed, and Elliot resolved not to let his guard down like that again as he took a small rest.

He got up again. There appeared to be four waist-high slugs crawling toward him. They seemed to have a pack mentality. Like they were wolves, or trained attack slugs. "Yeah, right. Like that would happen," Elliot muttered while he readied his staff. One of them waved its deedly bob like a club at Elliot. He rolled aside. "Okay, so maybe they _are_ trained attack slugs..." He slammed the mop handle into the slug's eyestalk and it reeled and started to deflate, green ichor flowing from the eyestalk.

Another eyestalk came slamming down. It impacted on Elliot's foot painfully, and another came down that Elliot barely had time to dodge. The other seemed to be trying something. A small blue light came from between its eyestalks, and Elliot got the distinct impression that it would be a very bad thing if he allowed it- or any of them- to concentrate. He quickly tamped down on the eyestalk on his foot, and once again the slug seemed to drain. He spun, catching the other in the body. It split with a sickening splatter. Elliot winced a little and tried to keep his brunch inside him, which barely gave him time to duck as both eyestalks came at Elliot at waist height. Left with little choice, he thrust the staff- and there was a bright flash as the metal tip of the mop pierced the thing's brain, leaving it dead as it deflated. "...But if they are, who trained them?"

Elliot rubbed his hands together to clear up the muck on them, and lifted the light to get a better look around. It didn't look like much, but then, Elliot had never liked spelunking. This entrance appeared to be the bottom- there was a series of rising cliffs to his right, but there didn't appear to be any real way to-

Wait. There was a small outcropping of rock. If he could get a rope there, Elliot could probably climb up. There turned out to be no need. The rope was already there. The cliff wall was slick, and a bit hard to find footholds on, but after a few false starts, Elliot managed to ascend the rope. He couldn't see the cliff beyond, so he lifted the light. It was dark, and an image resolved itself- one of those footlong mice- and very close. Elliot gave a wide swing with the staff. The mouse ran off.

In hindsight, Eliot should not have allowed it to, for this allowed it to call some friends. "Oh, come on," He said, as the mouse returned with two foot-long ant-like things. Antoids, Elliot supposed. Well, no time to waste, really. All three moved in on him, and bit down on the mop handle, trying to get Elliot to let go of it by worrying it. Elliot blinked and spun the handle, sending the two antoids flying and at least severely dizzying the rowdy mouse. He grabbed it by the tail and ripped it off the handle, smacking into the ground. There was a brief squeak, and it just lay there, still breathing. The mice should have learned to leave Elliot alone after that.

As Elliot climbed to the second precipice, he realized that 'should' and 'were' weren't the same words. He had to duck another of these rowdy mice that came flying at his head. It fell to the ground below with a loud 'squeak!'.

Elliot moved along the second precipice and saw a light from outside. He followed it, and emerged several stories above where he had entered. He could see the entertainer's shack from up here. He wondered if he could see his house, but no dice- there was a hill blocking his view. He sat down under a tree to rest little after coming this far. A butterfly passed him by, and he felt vaguely at peace with his surroundings. Taking a couple more minutes to rest, he looked around for another entrance. There was one on the other side of the hill. Turning on the Mig-Lite again, Elliot reentered the Step.

Nothing here, Elliot finally concluded, although some poor soul had been scared enough to drop an entire, fully wrapped burger. Huh- very recent, actually. No sign of spoilage. It must have been dropped by one of the Sharks last night.

Elliot decided to save it for his dinner and worked his way through a small opening in the cave wall, which lead to a larger opening. Up, and up, and up it went, higher and higher and higher. Far above Elliot, there appeared to be another patch of daylight streaming out. Elliot climbed up the rappelling ropes to the top of this set of precipices. There was daylight, but something blocked it, shadowed in the doorway. Elliot said the first thing that came to mind, which was, "Are you the one who trained the slugs?"

"No," the voice boomed. "Mother trained them."

"Mother?" Elliot was confused. "Who was your mother?"

"No. Not my mother. Mother." The difference was clear, as the capital letter fell easily into place on the latter.

"As in, Mother Earth?"

"Yes."

"I'm here to absorb Giant Step," Elliot changed the subject calmly. There were two antoids moving into the doorway.

"I know. But Mother gave it me." It stepped forward. The booming voice came from a six-foot tall ant, which stood on its hind legs. It was black and white striped, with a white star on its thorax. "And you can't have it any more, for Mother made me a Titan, to protect and guard this place."

"Then I must get past you first?"

"Indeed. This place, it is a Sanctuary. I cannot let you have it."

"I don't want to have to kill you." Something clicked in Elliot.

"Too bad. Because I will kill you." The Titanic Ant swung its left arms at Elliot, who deeked backwards and almost fell off the precipice.

"I don't have to," Elliot said calmly, and raised the mop handle. "Peace!" several multicolored spirals and curves came out of the staff, centering not only upon the Titanic Ant, but also the two antoids that were advancing on Elliot. They orbited briefly and collected, causing a multicolored burst of energy from each of them. The antoids were gone; Elliot figured they reverted back to being ants. The Titanic Ant, however, was only fazed and stepped back a little, allowing Elliot to gain some ground, and get his back towards something a little more stable. The ant continued to advance upon Elliot, and stabbed downward. Elliot rolled forward and jabbed it with the staff.

Now inside its guard, Elliot pounded on it again, squirming out to the side before the ant could grab and bring the boom down on his head. Elliot caught the Ant a blow on the underside of its head, and it staggered backwards a little. Elliot pressed the advantage while he could, spinning around and hitting the Ant in the thorax. It fell over after stumbling again.

The voice of the Ant boomed, "Magnet!" Elliot had to blink a little. He was inexplicably more tired, and a little hungrier, too. Elliot shook himself, which allowed the Ant time to roll over and get up. Elliot groaned. "Do we have to keep doing this?"

"Leave this place."

"No."

"Then we have to keep doing- Ah!" The Titanic Ant got jabbed in the jaw again. "You little punk!"

Elliot smacked it in the side, and it stumbled to its right. Elliot circled, and then jabbed it right in the star on its thorax. It stumbled backwards again and almost fell over the precipice. The Ant stepped forward, stabbing at Elliot. "Not this time," Elliot said. He got under its guard and gave it a shove, with a little wave at the end. It went back, back, back... except that the precipice wasn't where it went back.

And so it was that the Titanic Ant sank beneath the wave. "Oh, and I prefer 'soldier'. Wimp."

Elliot finally stepped into daylight. There it was, a gigantic footprint in the ground. "Well, now what am I supposed to do?" He took the Sound Stone out and looked at it. Is there something that needs to be done, or what?" He walked up to the Giant Step. Nothing happened. "All for nothing. Last time I ever trust what a bee says," Elliot muttered as he tossed the marble into the Step. It started to glow brightly and hover. Elliot looked around- and saw- and saw-

_And saw a small puppy, with grey and white fur; chasing its own tail... and in the distance, Elliot heard several notes._

"Azazel?" Elliot muttered. He had the distinct sensation of his feet touching ground. The Sound Stone still floated above the step. Elliot quickly caught it. He looked up. "Okay, okay. Forget what I said about trusting bees." Elliot noticed that if he held the stone to his forehead and listened carefully, he could hear the faint tinkling tune, though he would never need it to remember the notes.

As he left the step, Elliot noticed something odd. All the other creatures were getting out of his way. Not as if they were afraid of him. It was as if they were making way for the new Titan of the Step.

Elliot came back to the entertainer's shack. Three hours had passed, by their clock. It was now 5:23 PM. The entertainers weren't home, apparently. Elliot left the shack through the front door.

End chapter 3


	4. A Guarded Tale

**Chapter 4- Guarded Tale**

Outside the entertainer's shack, Elliot literally ran right into one of the local gendarmes.

"Hey! Who do you think you are, busting into a crime scene?"

"Is this a crime scene?"

The officer- Officer Reynolds, to be exact- pointed to the 'Do Not Enter- Crime Scene' sign. "Can't you read, boy?"

"Yes, sir, I can. Can you tell my why a sign you can get at a novelty shop is serving as an official sign?"

"Little hooligan. You're coming with me to the station."

"Yeah, fine... But can I get some food first? I'm a little hungry-" But Elliot wasn't. He wasn't tired, or hungry, or, on closer inspection, hurt at all...

"Yeah, sure. Could use a burger myself." They went to the nearby Burger Joint. It was much the same as before, only the drinks fountain had 'Out of Order' on it.

The clerk looked at Elliot. "Your money's no good here. What do you want?"

"Just a chicken sandwich and a Deist Cola, thank you."

The cop looked from the cashier to Elliot and back, and watched as the cashier paid out of her own money to pay for Elliot's meal.

"Being a hooligan can have its advantages."

Elliot took a look at the officer. "Um, might I get that to go, please?" It was already packaged in the bag. "Thank you. Well, go ahead. Take me to your leader."

"You know, if you ever stopped being insufferable... I bet there's a place for you on the force."

"Like I'd take it," Elliot scoffed.

"Fine." The walk continued in silence. "Here we are." The local police station, Onett's C Precinct. "Hey, Cap! Got a live one!"

Captain 'Strong' Strondheim was a short man, but stocky and tough. In his time on the force, starting as a beat cop, he had the same reputation that few, Elliot included, enjoyed- he had never lost a fight. For all that he had been in back-alley romps and desperate fights on rooftops, through bank holdups and long foot-chases, Strondheim had only one visible scar- a souvenir of when a bullet grazed him on the back of his hand. "Who are you?" He said, looking right in Elliot's eyes.

"Name's Elliot, sir. Elliot Fullerby."

"You're the leader of the Untouchables, right?"

"That's correct."

"Admirable how you have so much respect... when I don't hear so much as a peep out of you outside your rather small turf."

"We don't got any turf, sir."

"Not to hear the Sharks and Jaguars tell it. I suppose I have you to thank for the fact turf wars never happen this side of town."

"I wouldn't say that."

"You the one behind Frank getting jumped not too long ago?"

"Jumped Frank? More like beat the entire lower ranks of the Sharks, with Frank as an added one-time bonus." Elliot cracked his knuckles by spreading his palms against each other inwardly. "Singlehanded."

"Is this related to your trespassing on Giant Step?"

"It is." Elliot was firm.

"You seem quick to admit these things."

"I won't hide from what I did."

Strong smiled. "Good kid. But I want to see what you're really made of."

"Yeah? How long will this take?"

"Seeing as I'm getting some of my best beat cops, about two, two and a half hours. Have a seat. Read a book."

"Should I book in?"

"If you want... but that'll just make unnecessary paperwork for the Hall."

"Okay... You guys have anything to read?"

"Eh. I'll see."

Two hours later, Elliot was bored out of his skull. Not that he didn't like cheesy romance paperbacks, but they lacked a certain... something. Like an actual plot, or perhaps heroes and heroines that had a bit of sense at all.

In any case, he couldn't get through two chapters of the paperback he had been given by Strong. "Who bought this, anyway?" He muttered, idly tossing it into the air and catching it. With a little luck, it would cause the dang thing to self-destruct, and no one would ever have to deal with this particularly bad novel again.

Unfortunately, Strong walked in on this. "Give it up. Harder criminals than you have tried, and failed."

"I take it this means you're ready?"

"Yes. It's time." Elliot followed Strong into the interrogation room, where five other cops waited for him.

"You don't mess around with questioning, do you?"

"Nope. You prove yourself, And I'll let you go. Refuse to fight, and well, you get thirty days."

Elliot rolled his neck. "Sorry. I don't have the time for that."

"Okay, then." The first cop looked at Elliot. "Just so you know, we're stronger than any superhero."

Elliot rolled his eyes, and dodged out of the way of his crushing chop, smacking the man upside the head. The cop fell to the floor. "Next." Elliot dropped his staff.

The next cop came rushing at Elliot, who simply rolled back and tossed him into the iron door. Elliot recovered quickly, bouncing back and forth on his feet. "Come now, on your feet!" The cop just lay there. "Well, then. Next!"

"Heh. Poor kid. You can't keep this up forever!" The cop came at Elliot.

Elliot was confused. Why were they moving so slowly? It was so easy to see the cops' moves it wasn't even funny. Elliot caught the officer's hand and flipped him. "Come on, people! Feel free to let loose."

Behind Elliot, Strong raised an eyebrow. Elliot couldn't tell what the fourth cop said, it was faint, and came out really slow. So did the cop's attack, which Elliot batted away. He then hit the cop in the face with his palm. The cop staggered back with a bloody nose. Elliot turned to the last cop, who started to run off. He saw Captain Strong clapping, and the world sped up again.

"Good work. But I'm nothing like these talentless fools. Now you will face a master of- Super Ultra Mango Tango Foxtrot Martial Arts!"

Captain Strong struck a ridiculous pose- he was standing on one leg, hands forward but leaning back. He looked more like he was demonstrating how to dance at a disco than a martial arts style. Elliot laughed. "What the heck is that? Come on, give me a little credit."

Captain Strong stopped the pose. "You're right, kid- this is just for show." He stood firmly now, his hands at his sides and a little behind him. Also behind him was Elliot's mop handle.

"MY MOP!" Elliot shouted. This caught Strong off guard. Before he could recover, Elliot grabbed the mop handle and smacked the captain with it. Strong countered by getting Elliot into a hold. By the time Elliot broke free, he was out of breath, and got another hit for his trouble. He staggered forward a little and put a hand to his chest.

Then he got hit in the face. "No power! You want to defeat me, don't use your power!"

Strong then got shown the light- in the form of Elliot's staff hitting his face. Strong was knocked to one knee. Elliot advanced to deal another blow. "Hold! You did good, kid... But now I see you're not gonna fight fair. That's better. You need anything- anything at all- just tell me, okay?"

"Quite all right, Captain. I'll just go get some sleep now. What time is it?"

"It's ten o' clock."

"Directions to the nearest hotel would be nice."

"Escort?"

"Like I really need it?" Elliot smiled. Captain Strong smiled back.

"This generation is looking good. I was worried for a few years."

"Yeah? Don't be," Elliot replied. "And now for the directions to the hotel?"

"Sure."

At the hotel, Elliot called up his mother. "Hey, Mom."

"Where have you been?"

"I went on a hike... and I'm going to sleep at Edison's. Don't wait up."

"Oh. Did I tell you about Tracy?"

"No, what?"

"Wait, she's still up. I'll let her speak." Tracy came onto the phone. "Hey, big bro. I've got a new part time job over at Escargo Express."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Call me up at this number if you want something picked up or dropped off." Tracy rattled off a number.

"Hey! Wait up! I couldn't write it down."

"Oh. Okay." Tracy said the number, slower this time.

"Thanks, Tracy... I'll keep this number in mind."

"You do that. 'Night!" Mrs. Fullerby came back on the line.

"Elliot, be careful, okay? You don't know what's going to happen in that hotel."

"_Mom!_"

"Mothers know these things, dear."

"Okay. 'Night." He hung up the courtesy phone. "How much for a room?"

The bursar looked at him. "Thirty-five dollars a night. You check out at noon or get an extra day."

"I'll take a room." Elliot slapped thirty-five dollars cash onto the counter, and received the key to room 103. "Thank you."

"Have a good night," the bursar said gruffly.

Elliot promptly got into his room, hung up his backpack, and then flopped face first onto the bed. He fell asleep very quickly.

End Chapter 4


	5. Like Apples to Oranges

**Chapter 5- Like Apples to Oranges**

_It was a verdant field, a meadow in the middle of nowhere Elliot knew. He was supposed to be here, he knew. It was a beautiful place, and far off in the distance was a town's skyline that he did not know. Behind him, he knew, was Onett. "Is this a vision?" He asked the world._

_"Nope." A voice, it seemed to be bright. Not just smart, but actually bright, as if it would emit light just be speaking. "You must be Ness."_

_Elliot started to realize that this was a dream, because he had never met this voice. "I am," He said, his voice shaking with uncertainty. It was slightly advancing on him- he started to make out features. Flaring reds and soft, tasteful pinks, combined with black. _

_"Ness... We must meet." She- for she it was- had a strange form to her. "You are a friend I have never met. Come now, to Twoson. Your way will be opened."_

_"But- who are you?"_

_"You don't know already?" A slightly put-upon tone, this person simply could not believe that Elliot did not know her name. "My name is Skye."_

_"How are you in my dream?"_

_"I am not in your dream. You are in mine. The way is open. Come here and meet me... Ness..."_

Elliot awoke that morning refreshed and confused. The dream stuck in his mind. He looked into his backpack. There were now several changes of clothes in it, along with what appeared to be a sleeping bag, a day-old burger, and some other basics. He changed into a new, brighter stripy shirt, and walked out the door, where a bellhop was waiting. "Excuse me, sir... Would you like today's headline?"

"I'd rather have the newspaper, if it's all the same to you," Elliot said.

The bellhop gave it to him, and Elliot read it as he sat down to an almost-but-not-quite free breakfast. Something on the second page intrigued him:

**Skye Polestar, Psionic Savant**

"The girl in the dream...?" Elliot muttered. He read about halfway through the article, then threw it down in disgust.

Elliot supposed he should head to Twoson, if just to see just who, exactly, this Skye was. He knew it was only a few miles- how hard could it be?

The roadblock officers were firm. "We never received any order from Strong. I'm sorry, but you can't go through."

"Thank you." Elliot made his way to the police station, out of which came Captain Strong. "Hey."

"Huh? Oh, hello there. Quite a shiner you gave me there."

"Sorry about that," Elliot said. "But I do have a favor. I need to get to-"

"Say no more. The way will be open for you shortly."

Elliot slowly turned to Strong. "What did you say?"

"Let's just go, kid."

A few minutes later, the officers let him pass by the roadblock, and stared at him as he walked down the path. Behind them, a shadow ran into the surrounding forest, bearing south by southwest...

Elliot was completely oblivious to this one, and headed down the path to Twoson. The antoids again seemed to clear the way for him, as if he were of great importance. Other than that...

They looked like walking mushrooms. Elliot stood on his guard as one came up and hit him in the knee. He whacked it several times by spinning the staff around himself, and it was split into many pieces.

Elliot continued on and another blocked his path. This one was a little more persistent and managed to spray something- probably spores- at him. He continued the rest of the way to Twoson... And felt himself losing control of his body. "What the...?" His voice came out a little slurred.

He stumbled over to the side, and he steadied himself on a nearby tree. "Uhhh...." His vision faded in and out of focus, and he tried to make his way towards a human-like shape. "Hospital?"

The human-like figure waved in some direction, and Elliot stumbled over to the side of a building, where he rested a bit before considering his next move. The hospital was some unknown distance away, and he couldn't walk back to Onett in his current condition. Looked like he had no choice. He continued on his way to what he hoped was the hospital, trying to dodge the insane traffic, which seemed to think the sidewalks were safe travel.

After what seemed like several hours, Elliot saw a blurry red cross-shaped thing attached to a building. He assumed it was the hospital. After about three tries to find the door, he stepped in, stumbled back out, and stepped in again. Another vague human shape stepped in front of him, said something incoherent, grabbed the top of his head, and yanked off some kind of mushroom.

"You have no idea how useful this will be for my remedies... Here, take this as a token of my gratitude." It resolved itself to be some sort of blue-haired man in black vestments. Elliot recognized the garb- the holistic healers of Eagleland had done many things that normal medicine could not. And further and perhaps more important to Elliot, the healer was shoving fifty dollars into his hand. "Cool beans."

"Indeed. And thank you for brining me this rarity... Though the transport method, I must admit, is odd. Perhaps you should wash your hair."

"I'll consider that next time I'm in a hotel and have shampoo to wash with, healer."

"Of course. Be seeing you, young one."

Elliot considered the area of town he was now in. It seemed a nice enough place, pleasantly suburban, but with just enough urban flavor that said that people actually lived here instead of going away from there.

He was, in short, completely lost, with no way to get back to Onett. He hurriedly rifled through his backpack... change of clothes, handy pendant- He simply _must_ remember to return it to its proper owners- and some other sundries including toothpaste in a very sealed canister.

He also had a towel, but more importantly, he had a highway map book. "Thank you, Timmy Brothers..."

Not that a hospital was a decent enough landmark, there were probably two or three in town. He looked around. The hospital was 'Fair Marian's'. Elliot paged through the index, went to the proper page to look up where he was. Northeast side of town.

"That's all well and good... I can get back to Onett now... But where do I need to go?" It was at that moment that a man with a blue face walked by, going about his business. Elliot shrugged. "Well, when all else fails, follow the bouncing blue people."

The man's head snapped around at that remark. "Chosen!"

"Oh, for crying out loud-" The man launched at him. "Always the quiet ones." Elliot sidestepped the man and swung. He hit thin air, and then the ground with a loud thwack.

If it weren't for the growing blue aura, Elliot wouldn't have paid this man any more mind, and wouldn't have picked him out of any kind of crowd, not even one filled with computer nerds and hippies. Elliot brought up the mop handle, striking the man in the side. He had to get this over with quickly, before a crowd formed.

The unassuming fellow struck at Elliot again, and Elliot caught it with his staff. With a deft twist, he sent the man to the ground. A couple of people who had already gathered tossed quarters at the excellent performance, and Elliot had the presence of mind to bow. Cleared of aura, the man looked a little fazed. "Huh?"

The small crowd broke up. Elliot turned to the local. "Do you know where someone named Skye Polestar lives?"

"Polestar, huh? They run a preschool, live above it. They're weary and wary of leeches, though. They refuse to see anyone but a man named Ness-"

Elliot let off a curse. "Of course. Thanks for the heads-up."

"No problem."

There was a tall building to his right. There was a tall marquee on it that read 'RC Nickel'. Feeling a little like a complete hick for never having entered a department store before, Elliot walked in and was taken aback by the sheer size of the place. It was like the drugstore back in Onett, only twelve times bigger. And better.

Elliot regained his senses after a moment, and spotted a payphone. He looked at his sensor watch. "Yeah, it's time to call Dad."

He popped a dollar coin into the slot and rung up StarLabs. "Huh?" Elliot's father said sleepily.

"Hey Dad. Just checking in and uploading data. How are you doing?"

"Little progress... A lot of the other field investigators have gone missing."

"Oh. Wow. That's not good." Elliot got the uplink running. "Okay, uploading data now."

"And I'm putting about three hundred dollars in your bank account." Elliot's dad looked at the screen. "What are these other auras...? Eh, it's not important..."

"Okay. So I'll talk to you later, Dad. Be safe."

"You too, kid." Elliot's dad hung up, and Elliot hung around for a few seconds listening to the dial tone. He hung up and went to the ATM. Ready cash in hand, Elliot looked around for something useful. There wasn't much, and what there was Elliot already had a decent version of, so he sat down to lunch. The fact that he had a two-day-old burger completely slipped his mind as he bought some tasty ramen with chicken and lettuce and cucumber.

"Well, that was fun. Wonder where Polestar Preschool is... It's south of here, but..." He turned to talk to a random passer-by. "Excuse me, sir, but could you direct me to the Polestar Preschool?"

"Dude, you're like, totally killing my buzz." The man turned around, and his face and skin were rapidly changing hue.

"Oh, I so do _not_ need this." Elliot walked off.

"Seriously, dude, stop busting my hash!" The New Ager ran after him, stopping Elliot from escaping. Elliot conked him on the head. "Damn hippies."

Elliot cut through Burglin Park, following the road map and trying not to get too lost. He eventually got through the park without incident, though he had to ask for directions a few times. He emerged, and the Polestar Preschool was in sight. He knocked on the door, and a small child greeted him. "Strange mister."

"Hey... Are the Polestars in?"

A woman, looking in her mid-forties, with blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes, stepped into the doorway. "Well, of course we are. And you might be...?"

"Call me Elliot."

"Huh. Skye said there would be someone named Ness coming by today." The woman shrugged.

Elliot looked up in recognition, than looked away. "I don't know anything about that."

"I see. Well, come in and we'll talk a little."

"Thank you, ma'am."

The place wasn't huge, really, for a preschool, and like very large gas molecules, the children filled the space rather nicely, and had a tendency to bump into each other.

"You're Mrs. Polestar, then?" Elliot asked.

"Good deduction," Mrs. Polestar said. "And you must be Ness."

"No," Elliot stated firmly.

"You try so hard. Don't worry about it." Mrs. Polestar smiled. "You get used to it, around Skye."

"She ever wrong?"

"Not often. You'll probably want to talk with her."

"I would. She told me to come and meet her. At least... I think she did. I'm not sure."

Mrs. Polestar grinned. "It happens like that."

"Stop talking like it's fate!" Elliot said. "I had nothing better to do, so I came to visit."

"Sure it wasn't, Elliot. I understand." Elliot grated under the condescending voice. "Go talk to her father. He's in the next room."

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Polestar," Elliot said, curtly.

"No, it hasn't, but it's been interesting to meet you, Elliot."

Elliot gave a small backward glance, and stepped through the door.

"So that's Ness..." Mrs. Polestar said to herself. She smiled.

On the other side of the door, another blonde waited. He was beefy, and tall, and tanned. He wouldn't look out of place in an amateur bodybuilding contest, or in a rugby scrum. He had on a blue dress shirt, which did nothing to hide his bulk, and jeans, which showed off the rest of his musculature. The outfit as a whole screamed 'Look at my butt'. Elliot had seen worse outfits, and people who had looked worse wearing this style of thing. "You Ness?"

"No."

"Yes," came a voice from above. Elliot's head snapped to the stairs. The voice was female, and sounded tired and silent, or as silent as a shout can be.

"So you are Ness? Why lie about it?"

"I'd rather not go into it," Elliot said. "Please, call me Elliot."

"Okay, Elliot," Mr. Polestar said, a suspicious look in his eye. "I'll go get Skye." Halfway up the stairs, there was a muffled shout from the room above, and Mr. Polestar rushed up the stairs. He rushed back down again.

"Okay, you bastard, where did your people take her?"

Elliot rose an eyebrow. "What?"

"They just took Skye, you two-timing little punk!"

"I don't know anything about this! I'm as innocent as you are!"

Polestar's eyes narrowed. "All right. I believe you. For now. But you're going to help me."

"Of course. My goal was to meet with your daughter anyway."

"Very well," Mr. Polestar said. "I'll ask around here. You go pump Everdred for information."

"Who?"

"Everdred. He runs Burglin Park, and I'll eat my shirt if he's got nothing to do with this."

"Your opt. Everdred, huh. I'll go check that out." Elliot walked out the door.

Five seconds later, he walked back in. "Uh... Where is Burglin Park, again?"

About half an hour later, Elliot looked at the entrance to the Burglin Park Bazaar. There were a lot of things for sale, and merchants sat under pitched PVC tents, militarily not hawking their wares. There wasn't even any music playing. The park was oddly silent.

Something stuck into the turf. It was a small throwing knife. Elliot flipped it into his free hand with his mop handle. "Who the-" A brief flash ahead of him! Elliot rolled to the side. The second knife passed him by. Elliot ran to the knife-thrower's perch.

It was a small shack, colored yellow, in excellent repair. On top of it was a man all in dreadlocks. He hopped down, throwing his third knife for good measure. Elliot deflected it with the mop handle. "Who do you think you are?" Elliot shouted.

The man said nothing. He just stood there in his loud luau shirt that seemed such a contrast to the rest of the Bazaar.

Then the man rushed elliot, fists flying. Elliot danced backwards, desperately swerving to avoid the man's fist. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I am Everdred." The man said.

"Fitting name," Elliot cracked.

Everdred responded with another flurry of punches. Elliot was forced to block desperately with his staff. "Why are you fighting me?" Elliot swept Everdred's feet out from under him. "I just want to find Skye!"

"Skye? She's at the preschool, isn't she?"

"No. She just got kidnapped."

"What?" Everdred moved to grab Elliot, but winced. "You just got lucky, you- you- I twisted my ankle because of you!"

"I had nothing to do with it! What is with the suspicion everyone has of me?"

"You're new," Everdred said simply. "Everyone new is suspicious, especially since the Happy Happyists came to town and started going after Skye."

"What?"

"Need your ears cleaned, boy?"

"No no no," Elliot shook his head. "Who are the Happy Happyists?"

"They're a cult that appeared a few months ago. Seem to like blue a lot. They want Skye."

"Why?"

"Think, moron."

"The name's Elliot."

"Well, think! You have a psychic girl who is eighteen, and quite a looker at that. What _wouldn't_ they want her for?"

"You know, I don't think Skye needs a matchmaker."

"You don't know Skye..." Everdred laughed.

Elliot sighed. "Just tell me where the Happy Happyists are."

"They're beyond Peaceful Rest Valley. South of here."

"Got it. Thanks."

About an hour later, Elliot had no clue where he was going. He must have missed the turn somewhere. There were two rather large billboards in front of him: one of an orange, the back one of an apple. Elliot considered these signs for a moment and thought he could go for an apple right about now. He walked up to the apple billboard. It said 'Apple Kid' on it, and below it was a small house. He opened the door, which some of the detritus on the floor aside.

The house was _extremely _messy. The Silver Beetles were playing in the background. A mouse looked up at him quizzically. Elliot gave it a friendly little wave. It scampered off.

There was someone desperately working on some sort of machine. He wore a red shirt with black pants and suspenders. Rounding out his attire was a cheerful cap with what looked suspiciously like an apple stem sticking out of it.

"Uh, excuse me, but are you selling apples here?"

The young man was startled and sparks flew everywhere. "huhwhat?"

"You're Apple Kid, right? So where are your apples?" Elliot shoved aside some more of the assorted debris with his staff.

"Apples? No no no. I sell something much better than that... but... I haven't had anything to eat in something like two weeks. Do you got any food to spare?"

Elliot thought for a moment. He reached into his backpack and took out the two-day old burger. "Here."

Apple Kid took it and ate it, barely pausing for breath. "Mmmm. Two day old burger."

Elliot shrunk away from Apple Kid. "What? They're at their best then. Anyway, I feel better. But as to what I sell- I sell ideas."

"Oh, so you're like those dot coms?"

"Not exactly. I sell inventions. I haven't had much success lately though. If you could see your way to investing, I'll cut you in some profit as well as first crack at my inventions."

"Okay..." Elliot said, reaching for his wallet. "Here's $200. I want a five percent stake."

"Done!" Apple Kid snatched the twenties out of Elliot's hand. "Thanks, mister. This will pay for a few weeks of supplies!"

Elliot laughed. "Anytime." He headed for the door, but the mouse stopped him and talked into his mind. _::Hey. Name's Ringo. I saw what you did there. Take this. Tell him the number, so he can alert you. Got it?::_

"Uh, sure, Ringo. You got it." Elliot took the proffered something, which turned out to be an activated cell phone with a small white apple logo on the back.

"How'd you know Ringo's name?"

"He just gave me this cell phone. So call me on it. The number is...." He looked at the 'Own Number' and recited it. "Got that down?"

"Yep. Thanks! I'll be sure to tell you if anything comes up."

"Oh, and before I forget, where's Peaceful Rest Valley?"

"North of here a few miles. It's up a dirt path and through a rock tunnel, so you may want to bring a flashlight with you."

"Awesome. Thanks for the heads up, Kid."

"Don't mention it. And call me Apple. Please."

"Yeah, sure," Elliot said, walking out the door.

"Wait, isn't that _my _cell phone number?"

Elliot stared at his Timmy Brothers Map as if reading it would somehow resolve the situation that he still didn't know where Peaceful Rest Valley was, especially now that he was back in front of the RC Nickel.

"This is ridiculous!" he said, as a Mr. T impersonator passed him by. "You!" Elliot exclaimed, preparing to ask for directions.

"I pity the fool... who don't go to my friend's bike shop..." He turned and said, in Elliot's face. His various bits of gold jingled.

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Okay... Where is it?" If he had a bike, maybe he could get out of here faster.

Mr. T Jerked his head over to the building right next to the RC Nickel.

"Thanks. Oh, and what's your prediction for the Happy Happyists?"

The Mr. T impersonator turned and looked Elliot in the eye again. "Pain."

Elliot walked into the bike shop a happy man.

"Hey, mac! Can I help you?" Elliot looked to the counter, where a man wearing a mohawk and several piercings on his body stood. He had dyed his hair an awful shade of magenta. All of this rather distracted from his terrible taste in clothing.

"Yeah, yeah you can. I want a bike and directions to Peaceful Rest Valley."

"Hey, I like your style! You're up in anyone's face. So tell you what. You take this folding Daylong-" He handed Elliot a bike with sixteen inch wheels- "as a free rental. Return it when you like."

"Uh, thanks? Now, where's Peaceful Rest Valley?"

It was sunset when Elliot finally arrived at the entrance to the cave. "Damn...Took too long..." Elliot hopped off the Daylong, folding it. He lit his Mig-Lite. It was starting to fade- He'd need new batteries for it soon. "Of all the luck..."

A few mushrooms that were in the cave shrank from the light, but there were other things in the cave. Nasty things. Mobile plants. "For... Oh, forget it." The sprouts were laying small seeds. Each one became a new sprout.

"Yep. Forget this. Peace!" The wave of whirls and swirls converged on the mobile sprouts and mushrooms, converting them to a much less mobile kind of sessile life.

Night had fallen on Peaceful Rest valley when he came out of the cave, but there were still some people roaming the place.

"Excuse me?" A young woman said.

"Yes?"

"Do you happen to have any mushrooms?"

Elliot jerked his head back to the cave. "In there."

"Thank you!" Elliot rolled his eyes when she couldn't see it, and moved on.

Something came at him at head height. He ducked, just in time to see the disc fly over his head. "What the...?" It was a tiny flying saucer, and it hovered about head height. Elliot swung to smack it, but it was very nimble indeed- it swung out of the way and fired some sort of beam. Elliot felt pressure on his sinuses start to build. "Why you liddle..." Elliot sneezed in a rather painful manner. "Ugh.." He barely predicted the flying saucer's movements, winging it a few times. It crashed into the ground, where Elliot proceeded to wail on it. "Ib I nebber see one od you again, id'll be too soon!"

He sighed, exasperated. Something clicked. "Heal!" His sinuses cleared, and his breathing became easier. "Ah! That's better."

Up ahead, he saw another one of those flying saucers. He put away his staff and jumped the thing, hanging onto it while trying to ground it. It didn't work too well, and Elliot received another beam to the face- and this one HURT! Elliot let go of the contraption, and it smacked into a bluff. "Not much on compensators, are you?" he said, as he smacked it to debris with some degree of satisfaction.

He calmed down and continued north, as the bridge to the east was clearly out.

About ten minutes later, he came upon a rather large statue of a pencil. There was an inscription on it:

_Paid for by the Eagleland Endowment for the Arts_

That did it. "Oh this is fan-FREAKIN'-tastic." Elliot walked back south to the cave opening, and back into Twoson. He was unfolding his bike when 'Yesterday' started playing in rather tinny and clearly electronic notes. "Huh?" Elliot got out the Apple Phone and received the call. "Elliot Fullerby."

"Yeah, this is Apple Kid. I think I'm on to something. Get to Burglin Park in the morning- I'll let you see it."

"Hey, thanks, man. Later." Elliot hung up. "Now, where can I find a hotel...?"

Half an hour's bike ride later, Elliot found a Heicon Inn, and asked for the price of a room.

"Fifty bucks!"

"That's correct."

"Fine." He looked into his wallet. "Oh, uh, give me a minute, yes?"

"As you wish, sir."

Elliot walked into the ATM room, and withdrew a quick fifty dollars. He came back and put it on the desk, and received the keys to room 201.

That night, Elliot dreamed.

_It was a small, dark place. There was water rushing outside. "Ness... Ness can you hear me? This is such a strain. Are you there? Please, Ness-"_

_"I'm here. Where is 'here'?" The soft red light filled the room, but he still couldn't see Skye's face. _

_"I don't know. I'm giving you what information I have. It's a log cabin somewhere... there's a waterfall nearby. I know you were there in Twoson. You're the only one who can help me, Ness... I don't have enough power... Promise..." _

_"I'll do it. No worries," he tried to say, but the dream was already fading into another, more familiar dream._

Elliot awoke to he laughter of the Shadow, and shuddered. It was twilight outside.

In dawn's light, Elliot biked into Burglin Park. Everdred greeted him, but Elliot, already distracted by the dream and the problem of finding Apple Kid, waved him off. There, by a tree, was the hat of Apple Kid. Elliot made his way toward it.

Apple kid was sleeping, probably for the first time in days. Elliot smiled and let him sleep. Ringo crawled out of Apple Kid's arms, and looked up at Elliot, it's nose twitching as it gnawed on some piece of wood or other. _::About time you got here. Poor kid worked through the whole night for you. He got the invention here, though.::_ Ringo rifled through Apple Kid's front pocket, and same up with a small, laser-pen-like device. _:: It's called a pencil eraser. Anything shaped like a pencil at the receiving end of the eraser, here, just goes POOF! Best stay away from the student store with this baby, though.::_

Elliot took the pencil eraser gratefully. "Wow. Thanks." He looked at the dozing fruit. "Take good care of him, Ringo. I've got to go apologize to Everdred before he decides to kick my butt."

_::No prob. Be careful, dude. Remember- stay cool at all times, for uncool dudes get stomped on!::_

Elliot laughed. Despite his recurring headache, he was in high spirits. "Everything's coming up N- Elliot!" He said, laughing, as he waved to Everdred. "Sorry about that. I was in a bit of a hurry. What were you trying to say?"

"I was saying that if you manage to rescue Skye... come back here."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I was just thinking of heading over here now. Wish me luck, man!"

"I'll do that, Elliot."

Elliot got back on the Daylong, biking out of burgling park directly to the tunnel. He didn't want to burn any more daylight than he had to.

He arrived at the blocking statue without any more of those- things- buzzing him. He got out the pencil eraser, pressed the button, and a small beam of a vaguely pink color hit the pencil statue, which seemed to disintegrate it. A few lively steps later, Elliot was over the pile of iron filings.

There was a small land bridge over the Grateful Dead River. There was something on the other side, and it looked like its gyro was out of control. "The heck..." He dove out of its way and it fell into the river. "Wow. That was pointless." He fished a small candy out of itself. "Neat. Free candy." He walked along and stuffed the candy into his pocket, unfolding the bicycle again. "Here goes."

Actually, it was a bit of a no-go- the bicycle had too large a turn radius for most of the work, meaning Elliot had to get out and walk it. After a few minutes of this on and off problem with his bike, Elliot gave up and folded it, strapping onto the back of his backpack. "Useless."

Another one of those spinning robots was hanging around the top of a ridge up ahead. "Tch. Fine." Elliot managed to sneak up on it, and placed the mop handle right between its spinning weights. It made him drop the staff, but it sent the spinning robot over the edge of the bluff. Elliot laughed as he retrieved his makeshift staff and continued on his way.

The trees grew thicker as he approached the other end of the valley. Not surprising, it was wetter here. What was surprising was that a branch slapped him in the face. Elliot staggered back. "Okay, Buzz Buzz," He said to the world at large. "The dogs and rats, fine. The mushrooms, all right. Sprouts I can deal with. But how in the name of all that's holy am I supposed to take on a TREE?" He shook his head. "No use complaining. Here, blue blue blue..."

The slowing blue tree stood out. "Now I've got you!" Elliot lumped up and smashed the metal end of the mop handle onto the tree, which proceeded to start burning. Elliot jumped away as quickly as he could, and watched the flames die off. "Serves you right."

It was a dead end, but Elliot found a hard hat- an old miner's helmet, actually. On the inside was a name: _Charlie Winters_. Elliot wondered if he should call his dad about that name. But it was noon, well past, actually, and he had walked a long way.

He reached into his backpack for the chicken sandwich, and making sure no one was around, took a surreptitious bite. He considered it for a moment. "Okay, so maybe Apple Kid's not as insane as I thought." Eliot ate the rest of his lunch in silence and continued on his way, coming to another dead end. But this one overlooked something. A log cabin.

"...Is that it?" Elliot muttered.

_Yes_. Elliot looked around, and heard the water. It was almost the same pitch. He tried to imagine it from the inside of that box canyon. It was worth checking out, at least.

He looked around. Outside the one-story log cabin was a rather large murder of crows; Elliot considered that he might want to stay away from that. There was an entrance leading into a small cliff face, clearly designed to be both easily concealed from view and yet wide enough to be used as a supply line. Was the cabin the remnant of some forgotten fort? Elliot put such thoughts from his mind, and looked for another way in. None presented themselves, though there was a small rock tunnel off the canyon walls, bored long ago.

The tunnel was the remains of a railroad, clearly- you could still see the spike holes and the marks of blasting into the rock. Elliot was surprised- he didn't think the trans-Eagleland had run this far north. He touched the walls, and almost felt the history bearing on him, telling him of this place, the pain and blood and building for one purpose. "So many people..." he whispered, his fingertips running along the walls.

Elliot looked at where he had come out. It was blue. Very blue. As a matter of course, everything seemed to be painted or dyed or otherwise colored blue. And ahead was the largest blue aura that Elliot had seen yet. The sign beside him said "Happy Happy". The lettering was, of course, blue.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why do I have Europop going through my head?"

Almost as soon as he walked out, a person in yellow accosted him. "Excuse me, sir. Would you like to buy a postcard?" The postcard was not of the place around him, but of his hometown Onett. He looked at it strangely, and forked over a few dollars.

"Thank you kindly, sir." Elliot nodded and walked around, pocketing his strange souvenir. Now he started to think of his fort hypothesis. If the fort were designed to help protect the town and a rail depot, it would need some connection to it- probably that tunnel, bored around the same time as the way into Happy Happy Village. Now, it would likely be very close to the town- as close as it could come and still be stable, and not cut directly through the rock. This was turning onto a bit of a poser, but he walked along the northern foothills and continued to think. There was a general store. He didn't want to go in at first, but decided to look in anyway. Nothing there really, beyond a sturdy- and very blue- bamboo pole.

Leaning n his new bamboo pole, he walked south. There were talks of 'The High Priestess's ordainment' and other such odd things. Elliot took a wild guess that Skye was going to be the High Priestess. He really did have to hurry- her baptism of Blue was tonight. Where was the cave? There was one.

"What's through there?" He asked a man looking into it.

"I don't know. It's a strange and anti-blue place. We can't paint it anything- it just fades back to the anathema browns. It's like... some sort of cursed place."

"Any more cave entrances around here?"

"Not for you, outsider."

Elliot turned around and searched the foothills again. There- by those shrubs and concealed by them. A small entryway. Elliot ducked his head and walked in, expecting to need the Mig-Lite, which he just remembered was running low on batteries.

The tunnel was surprisingly well-lit, with multiple miner's incandescent bulbs hanging every few feet inside. Also inside were several guards, dressed all in blue, with odd blue pointy masks on. They had some white, fuzzy dealy bobs at the end. They seemed to be wielding buckets of paint and paintbrushes.

Elliot shrugged and brandished the blue bamboo pole.

"Who goes there!" One of them shouted.

"Someone who can't stand to see people taken against their will." Elliot rolled his neck. "In short, I'm here to talk with Skye."

"No one speaks to the high priestess now! Not before the initiation!"

"I'm sorry to hear that, but surely you must make an exception for me?"

"No one may pass besides Carpainter and his Deacon."

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "Deacon...? Give it a rest."

"How dare you speak of the Deacon with such disrespect?" The two guards advanced, raising a shout: "Heathen! Intruder! Unclean!"

"Well, that's not good..." Elliot smacked one of them, and the other started throwing paint around. "Ick." He could hear footsteps from the entrance. "Let's make this quick." Elliot swept at their feet, but while one fell over, the other jumped over the staff and threw some paint. The spatters of blue hit Elliot. "That's getting annoying." He hit the other out of the air and into a wall.

Elliot took one look at the carnage- and ran to the end of the tunnel. There was he cabin! Quickly now. But careful! Crows are vicious in a murder. He made it to the door and opened it.

Inside there was a small table with a wooden chair that looked uncomfortable. The cabin was split in half by a wall of reinforced iron bars. But what caught Elliot's attention was the woman that was Skye.

Elliot was dumbstruck. It was Skye all right- no doubt of that... But he wasn't quite what he had envisioned in his dreams. Admittedly, his dreams had shaped her into a pink ball of light, but that wasn't the point.

Skye, taken in pieces and parts, was certainly attractive. She wore a pink hoodie with black flared jeans. The pink was a pastel rather than hot, which seemed to suit her better. She was definitely a blonde, and beside her was a small red beret and a stuffed animal of some sort. And her eyes were of a soft brown- and scowling at him from the chair where she was tied, hands behind her, waist tied to the chair in a classic loop knot, her mouth lightly gagged. Her feet were free, though, and she was making small leaps and bounds to the cell door. Her entire countenance was one of aggression.

She spat out the gag. "About time you got here. I was ready to bust myself out, chair and all."

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'd explain further, but-"

"Your hands are tied?" Elliot smirked.

"I'll thank you not to make cracks when my life is at stake, Ness."

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "Okay, first rule- you don't get to call me Ness."

"Why not?" Skye smiled. "It's what you call yourself."

Elliot snorted. "We'll talk later."

"Of course."

"Why is your life at stake? They want to make you High Priestess. Seems pretty cushy."

"I haven't taken the Baptism yet. Elliot, I've seen it happen- it can kill people."

"What happens?"

"I'm not sure, but the Deacon touches them and some just wither away, right there. Turn to dust as the blue aura envelops them and supposedly makes them clean."

"What?" Elliot gaped at this.

"Those that aren't destroyed... they aren't the same. They seem- vacant, blank. Devoid of what life they had..."

Elliot nodded. "What do I need to do to get you out?"

"Well, you'll need to get the key to my cell."

"Who has it?"

"Maybe the Deacon, maybe Carpainter himself. But if you're going after either of them, I suggest you take this." There was a bit of wriggling, and Skye held in her teeth some strange object, which she kicked to Elliot.

Elliot picked it up. It was a small badge with a symbol of a lightning bolt and key.

"That's the Franklin Badge," Skye said. "It'll deflect electricity. You'll need it against either the Deacon or Carpainter."

"How handy," Elliot said, clipping it onto his jacket.

"You're welcome," Skye muttered.

There came a commotion from outside. "Hey! We know you're in there! Come out and fight!"

"Well," Elliot said, "I think that's my cue to get out of here."

"Just shut up and go kick rear like we all know you do so well."

Elliot smirked. "No problem at all." He tipped his hard hat to her, and walked out the door.

Elliot's eyes adjusted to the light outside. And then his eyes narrowed again. "You..."

END Chapter 5


	6. Outlaw Man

**Chapter 6: Outlaw Man**

"Yes, it's me," Pokey said, his voice twisted in an attempt at making a mocking falsetto. He'd failed.

"You never were good at making people feel bad," Elliot said.

"Oh, so now you're being personal?" Pokey said. "I'd be hurt, if I weren't completely above you."

"How is that personal, Pokey? Or has your mind gone the way of the rest of your body?" Elliot smirked.

"I'll have you know I'm a big man in Carpainter's little religion." Pokey smirked. "Soon to be much bigger when we have a worker of miracles."

"You refer to Miss Polestar, I assume." Elliot jerked his head back to the cabin, looked forward, smiled and shrugged. "Sorry, but as her personal bodyguard, I must prevent your entry."

"_I can still hear you!_" Skye shouted.

"_And aren't you glad I'm not letting him in?_" Elliot responded cheerfully. "So that's the law. I'm laying it down. Any questions?"

"Actually, yes." Pokey extended a hand, and let out a harsh cry. A black bird lighted on his hand. "Have you met my friend Quoth?"

"Pokey, that's a crow. As in, not a raven." Elliot leaned on his bamboo pole, a bemused smile on his face.

"Nevermore!" Quoth replied.

"Okay, so it's a particularly spiteful crow. It's still a crow, Pokey."

"You're pretty quick on the uptake for a dead man."

"You and what army, Pokey?"

Pokey nodded his head back and two burly customers dressed in all blue- blue hoods, blue shirts, blue pants, even blue suede shoes- advanced. The scent of turpentine started to fill the air. "Will these do? Meet my friends, Thug 1 and Thug 2. Quoth! Take him!" With that, the crow launched at Elliot, who smacked it aside. "Just like batting practice..."

Elliot stood up, leaning on the bamboo pole, a wry smile on his face. "As for you two, I have one word." He lifted his free hand. "SMILE!" A bright flash of light blinded both burly blue boys, and Elliot finished them off in short order.

"Now where is he...?" Pokey was running off, and Elliot gave chase. "Get back here, you fat sack of crap!"

Pokey could run pretty fast for a porkball, Elliot mused.

Elliot lost sight of him in the tunnel back to Happy Happy Village and dark had descended, or would have if not for the eerie, glowing blue miasma.

"Follow the bouncing blue people," Elliot scoffed to himself. He followed the light where it was brightest. Perhaps not the smartest move; Elliot couldn't see past the fog.

When he had run into his third tree, Elliot stopped for a moment. "Why couldn't I see this before...? I need to see..." The miasma thinned to his will. "And we could see all things... If we only had the eyes..."

Right in front of him was the huge temple. It was a large, two-story cathedral of blue proportions, just like everything else in this town.

Elliot adjusted the miner's helmet and looked up. "I wonder...?" He flicked the switch and the light sprang to life, in full brightness. "That settles my luck for the day... Let's see what the night may bring."

The huge double doors were big and solid wood and blue and smelled and felt of recent painting- that certain stickiness that only occurs about five hours after paint has been left to dry.

They were also very locked. "Aw, for-" Elliot jiggled the doorknob. Wasn't budging. "Uh... Bomb!" The doorknob resolutely refused to explode. He concentrated and thought. "Burst." Nothing happened. He twirled his fingers, spinning them in opposite directions "Unlock?" he put two fingers together, and slid them to one side. "Open?"

He touched the dooknob. "What's the point?" It started to glow. Startled, he looked at it, and it faded. He touched the door again. "Point?" The glow was dimmer and faded quickly. "Point!" The entire doorknob fixture glowed brightly.

He stepped back, snapped his fingers and in the same motion pointed at the doorknob. "Burst!" The doorknob blasted apart.

"Point Burst. But I didn't have a headache... So how...?" He'd figure it out later. Right now, he had a door to get through.

He pulled open the door using the hole he had created. The blue fog poured out, clinging to his clothing. Elliot stepped in, slowly.

The first thing Elliot noticed was the sound, the long drone of "Blue... Blue... Blue... Blue..." Filled every corner of the room, in perfect time with each other. The total effect was enough that Elliot had to resist breathing in time.

It was dark. Too dark for anything to get done.

He could see the people, or rather, the shadows that defined their shape- but it felt dry, and it was cold, despite the apparent lack of ventilation. Elliot looked around, noting that some shadows were darker than others. Taking the darker shadows to be closer to him, he made an attempt at moving through the temple. He was forced to elbow through people. "So confusing... Let's get this over with..."

Elliot continued to elbow his way through the crowd, getting closer to the THING at its center. Having gone through thin points and a wall of people about one person thick, Eliot came to a clearing. He was closer to the THING now. "Five to eight what color it is..." There were some people chanting in a ring around it while others marched in a circle, beating some sort of drum or something; Elliot couldn't tell and on further thought didn't want to know.

There was a door on the other side of the circle. Was it clear? Yes. He bolted for it before the circling members could even think of stopping him. He slammed it behind him, and ignoring the huddling secretary, walked up the stairs to Carpainter's inner sanctum.

The man Elliot could only assume was Carpainter was there, as well as a statue about three feet tall. It had horns and would almost be mistaken for one of the later Academy awards, if it wasn't too large and had a sword of the wrong make. It gave off a small blue light, which seemed to fill the room, despite the white light coming from a 100-watt bulb. It felt familiar to Elliot, but he couldn't figure it out. There was a smell of ozone in the air, and a spark from the bulb to the statue illustrated why.

"You're Carpainter, I assume." Elliot held his staff in a guard position.

"I am. Who are you?"

"Call me Elliot. I'm here to release Skye."

"I see. And why would you want to? She would have a good life here."

"With no mind of her own? I doubt that." He dropped his backpack.

"Like she has one now? The poor girl is captive to her own visions, boy. Her mind is fragile. I could make it stronger."

"Bullshit."

"What?" Carpainter looked perplexed.

Elliot looked at his hands. The blue was fading into his normal skin tone, but it seemed to close around them in a small shell. "I said bullshit. Skye doesn't need you or anyone else. I can tell."

"...What?"

"I said, I can tell. What's the matter? Got paint in your ears? So let her go."

"I can't do that. She will lead my people to a new age of miracles!"

"You deluded fool!" Elliot shouted. "Do you even know what you're summoning in there?" The shell moved closer to him.

"The ultimate power... the greatest miracle of all." Carpainter shook his head knowingly. "And there's still time... Time for you to partake of this power. The power of Mani Mani!"

"You worship an idol which will bring about only your destruction... you go about blithely as if nothing will happen to you... and every day, this place dies a little more. And you ask me to join you in this- this _farce_? Shut up, give me the key, and destroy that statue while there's still time!"

"So be it, fool. Now _die._" Carpainter stretched his hand and two arcs of electricity came off the bulb. One went wide, but the other struck Elliot in the chest- and _bounced._ Elliot was knocked off his feet with the force of the hit and the rebound, but the bolt hit Carpainter square in the face. Carpainter convulsed as the amperes grounded through him. "...What? No. It can't be- that's mine-"

"Check for yourself, Carpainter," Elliot said, standing up. "It's called a Franklin-"

"I know what it is!" Carpainter snapped. "That little demon you call Skye must have stolen it from me! No matter. I'll get it back when you're dead!" He weaved his fingers together, then spread it out. Electricity arced between his fingers and hands.

"Hello? Franklin badge?" Elliot said, pointing to the thing. "Not going to work?"

"Even the Franklin badge can be overloaded. Now DIE!" Carpainter shoved his hands forward, and arcs of electricity covered the room, pounding against Elliot's body, slamming him into the wall. "Agh!"

The pressure was intense, and ratcheted up fro a brief moment before a thick white-hot lance of electricity struck Carpainter, sending him flying into the statue, which crashed through a window. The blue started to fade away, and the bulb stopped sparking. Elliot coughed as he whiffed a little too much ozone. He quickly checked himself for damage. Outside of a couple bruises and shallow cuts, no real damage. It was hard to breathe- must have bruised his ribs. "Life..." He groaned, and he started on his healing. Some cuts closed, and the bruises would probably be gone by morning.

The Carpainter was a little worse off than Elliot was. Some of his clothes appeared to be extremely burnt, and he seemed to be staring into nothingness. His mouth was ajar. "Oh, no way... I can't have..." Elliot took Carpainter's pulse. Weak, but it existed.

"Life!" The wounds refused to even budge. Small amounts of bruising appeared in his abdomen; he seemed to be hemorrhaging. "No. Life!"

The barest of responses; the burns were starting to subside as well as the swelling. Carpainter was breathing again. Elliot stopped for a second with the psychic healing. He looked away. "Why am I helping you...?"

The answer came, and he took off the Franklin Badge and placed it carefully next to his backpack. He turned back to Carpainter. "Because I'm not a coward. Life!" The pulse was stronger, but Elliot would have to let Carpainter regain consciousness on his own. The burns were fading into what appeared to be Carpainter's typical pasty white flab.

A labored exhalation, and a similarly loud intake of breath, though much swifter. "... What happened? Why does my chest hurt so?"

"Mr. Carpainter? You..." Elliot thought of how to put it, But Carpainter stopped him.

"I'm starting to remember now. The flock... everything that's happened. Skye... Oh, my God. What have I done? Here- take this key. Keep the badge. Get to the cabin as soon as possible. It cannot possibly make up for what I have done, but... please, free her. I'll stop the ceremony."

"Of course." Elliot took the key and pinned on the badge. Slinging his backpack, he slid down the banister to the bottom floor, where several people were wandering, a little dazed. "Get them out of my office... Please?"

Elliot shook his head and sighed. And then he laughed. Some things were just too much. Carpainter stumbled down. "Stop the summoning!" he shouted. "There will be no more Baptisms!"

It was too late- his so-called 'loyal flock' had already left him and the temple. "Thank God..."


	7. Dah Blues

**Chapter 7: Dah Blues**

Elliot sent up a flash, and the remaining blue fog retreated and dissolved. He walked out of Carpainter's temple, and smiled.

"Ness?" Came a sickeningly familiar voice.

"Hello, Pokey."

"I'm sorry for all that's happened, but I'm back to normal. Forgive me, please." Pokey extended a hand. Elliot shook it.

Pokey wouldn't let go. "I have the statue you know."

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "What's your point, Pokey?"

"I could strike you down now. Make you my servant... But I'm not. Later, SMELLIOT!" Pokey ran off, as Elliot looked on, stunned into silence.

A few seconds later, Elliot finally said something. "My god, he's gotten stupider."

It was 1:10 AM by the digital clock in the cabin when Elliot stumbled in, feeling more tired than he had in months. "Skye? You awake?"

"Hard to sleep, like this." Skye rolled her neck, and several sickening cracks were heard.

Elliot winced. "I have the key."

"Then get me out of here already!"

"Tch. Not even worried. Yeah, you're a real catch." Elliot unlocked the cell door. "You got a pocket knife or something? Only, I was never a boy scout."

"There's a teddy bear backpack in the corner. Open it. You'll find five razorblades. You know what to do from there, I take it."

"Yeah, yeah..." Elliot started to cut away at the ropes haphazardly with one of the dull-looking things.

"Careful, Ness! Those are sharp and I don't want to, you know, die or something."

"No worries about dying with me around. Trust me." A snap- the rope had been cut through. Elliot set about unwrapping the ropes.

Skye got up and stretched her arms. She didn't look half bad, come to that. "Ugh, I've been in these clothes three days."

"Well, then, let's get you home," Elliot said. "Sooner the better." Elliot wrapped up the razorblade and put it back into the teddy-bear backpack.

"Indeed."

"But... Why do you have a package of razor blades?"

"It was that or a guitar in the short prescience time I had to stuff my backpack. Which would you have taken?"

"Point. But I'd have tried for some rope." Elliot shook himself. "But right now, we need to go."

"Go where? What we need is sleep. And you defeated Carpainter, so no worries about his followers."

"The Deacon is still dangerous. Let's go."

"I'll take your word for it, then." She took out the package of razorblades out and held it in her hand. She slung her backpack. "Ready."

Heading out, Elliot posed briefly and said "Fuzzy pickles!" There was a small flash of light from somewhere ahead of him.

"Damn Papparazzi!" Skye nearly yelled.

"Doesn't matter. Pose."

"Huh?"

"Pose," Elliot said, from the position of someone who had thought about the idea for a long time. "If you pose, they can't do anything with the photo, especially if you look right at the camera. 'Cause it's clearly not a candid shot."

Skye thought about this for a moment. "Huh..."

"Just think about it next time you're surrounded by them, 'kay?" Elliot nodded, and walked to the tunnel entrance, nearly dead on his feet. _It's times like this,_ he noted, _I just want to go home. But now I can't. Funny world, huh?_

"Uh, Ness?"

"What" Elliot responded, sleepily.

"You're toasted. You'll end up sleeping on the way anyway. Let's find someplace to sleep tonight. We can make the journey back home tomorrow."

"But it _is_ tomorrow!" Elliot protested.

"You're worthless to me dead, Ness Fullerby. So we're going to sleep. Or at least you are."

"But"

Skye simply kept walking ahead of Elliot, looking for a place to stay. By the time she had found someplace to stay the rest of the morning, Elliot was too tired to fight about anything, though he did sleep on the couch.

That morning at 10:00 AM, Elliot woke up and stretched.

"About time you got up, Ness. We're going home."

Elliot blinked. "Got different homes," He said, blurrily.

Skye sighed. "Just get up. There's coffee downstairs."

"Coooooooffeee."

"Yes, coffee. Now MOVE!"

Muttering darkly about having a decent dream for the first time since he started this whole shenanigan, Elliot filled his cup with beloved java, still in the clothes he wore the day before. He sipped at it, and something slowly dawned on him. "_And stop calling me Ness!_" He continued muttering about putting on airs and pretending to know him.

"The sooner you get me home, the quicker you'll be rid of me. "

"Compelling argument. Let's roll." Elliot had no breakfast, changed (Which took about three minutes alone), and gathered his things. By the clock on the farmer's wall, it was near 10:20 AM.

"Hate those stupid cat clocks. It's like they're watching me" Elliot muttered.

"It's just a clock," Skye said.

"Sure. Whatever." They reached the general store near the tunnel where Skye was held. "Twoson's the other way, Elliot."

"Yes, but batteries are here."

"Batteries?"

"For a flashlight," Elliot held up his dead Mig-Lite.

"Oh."

"Of course, you could wait over by the tunnel out if you want."

"Gladly." Skye thought a moment. "But don't you think you ought to turn off the light on that helmet first?"

"The- Oh yeah. Still want the batteries, though... And I need to make a phone call."

"Heh. Ness Fullerby, a mama's boy. Who'd've thought it?"

"What's that? You want to let you go home alone? Why, I'd be glad to!" Elliot slammed the door of the general store in Skye's face.

Skye never saw the door.

Elliot phoned home.

"Hello, Fullerby residence."

"Hey mom." Elliot remembered everything that had happened, and it showed in his voice.

"You sound so sad, Elliot. Are you all right?"

Elliot smiled. "Yeah. I'm finishing with that trip soon, and will probably be coming home tonight."

"Okay, dear. Keep your spirits up, all right?"

"Will do, Mom. Later." Elliot hung up. He picked up some AAs and some C batteries for the flashlights, then headed out of the general store.

"Elliot. I'm sorry." Skye said. "Let's talk deal."

"Why the sudden change?"

"I can't go home alone, Elliot."

"Okay, but you're eventually going to tell me what you saw."

Skye looked shocked. "How did-"

"It'd be the only thing that could change your mind. But a few ground rules. One, you don't read my mind without permission. It's just rude, and worse than rape."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's more private. Two, you don't call me Ness. At least, until I say you can. You don't know me. 'Kay?"

"Fine, Elliot. Can we go?"

"Yeah. The sooner we leave this accursed place the better." Elliot shrugged his jacket closer to him, and walked to the tunnel that exited to the Peaceful Rest Valley. The weight of ages, and blood given to connect a world, and then the sunlight again. "So many... And now look at it," Elliot said.

"Huh? Ne- Elliot?"

"They brought a mountain to its knees, and now... No more trains run the Transcontinental."

"I suppose not."

A mobile sprout approached them, one of the living trees moving with it in an odd motion, though it probably made sense if you were a tree. It seemed to grow in the direction it wanted to go, then shrank, ripping up soil behind it and using the newly grown roots to pull it along. It moved fairly fast. Elliot readied his bamboo pole and Skye drew the razor blades.

"What's with those, anyway?"

Skye threw the razorblade with a lazy flick of her wrist, and it cut the mobile sprout fairly neatly. With another flick of her wrist, she said "Freeze." A layer of rime frostbit the sprout, shattering it. Skye deftly caught the razorblade as it returned to her.

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Should I be scared that you're so proficient with razor blades?"

"Probably," Skye responded.

"That's really odd. Because, you know, I'm not." He launched himself at the tree, which whomped him with a branch. He readjusted his helmet so that he could see, and stood up. "That was dirty pool." He wound up. The bamboo pole started to glow. "You _fat sack of crap!_"

The pole bent, as if briefly anchored by the point of light. It hit the tree full force, neatly slicing it into two halves: root and branch. Both halves burst into flame. Skye and Elliot got away from it as fast as they could and got out with only minor scrapes and first-degree burns.

"A bit of misplaced rage, Elliot?"

"Maybe. What's it to you, Skye?" Elliot walked on.

"Hey! You don't get to just walk away!"

"Says who?" Elliot turned around. "Just because I have to get you home don't mean I have to be polite. Now follow or get left."

Skye followed, and Elliot looked ahead, a little confused. She smiled smugly. "Something wrong, Elliot?"

"Yeah. Who put that bridge there?"

"You can see the river from here?"

"You mean you can't?" Elliot walked down off the ridge.

Standing there was a crew of about twenty people. In front of them was a man dressed in a blue suit. "I feel I must apologize... I destroyed the bridge under Carpainter's orders."

"You can remember too?"

The man looked down in shame. "Yeah. All of it. Which is why I got these guys together shortly after we all left and rebuilt it as best I could. It should hold until the next flood. It can't repay for all I've done, but it's a start. Living amends."

"Uh, thanks..."

"No, thank you. I'm still indebted to you."

"Let's go, Elliot," Skye said. "I don't want to hear this."

"Skye... All right. Homeward bound we are." They crossed the bridge, and headed back through the tunnel into town.

At the Polestar Preschool, Elliot stood on the steps, looking up at Skye. "Goodbye, Miss Polestar. You are safe for the moment. My obligation is discharged, so if you will excuse me, I have to see a man about a cave."

"Elliot?" Skye asked.

"Yeah?"

"If you ever need my help..."

"Hm?"

"Don't hesitate to get lost." Skye closed the door.

Elliot walked away. Up ahead, there was a black van, with the grey letters 'RUNAWAY' inscribed on it.

"Oh, god. Omigod. OMIGOD!" He ran up to it, laughing. "No WAY!"

Walking out of the bus were perhaps the greatest blues band since the Day the Music Died: The Runaway Five.

"Uh-oh," drawled Gorgeous, one of the lead singers. "Hey, Lucky. We've got someone here."

"We do?" Lucky, a somewhat pudgy man nearing middle age, looked out the bus at Elliot. "Looks like we do."

Elliot was just standing there, paralyzed, not knowing what to say.

"Hey, there. Word's got round 'bout you, you know? You don't seem to have much regard for yourself there."

"I-it has?" Elliot's voice was cracking; he was developing a dry sweat.

"Yeah. Here, now, I got two backstage passes for tonight."

This snapped Elliot back to reality. "What's the catch?"

"Just- meet us backstage. In the meantime... why don't you go do what you were doing?"

"Heh. Sure." Elliot got out his bike and rode off.

A few minutes later, Elliot looked at the entrance to Happy Happy Village, his travel time cut considerably by the bike and the bridge.

"Time to go." He walked his bike through the tunnel, and rode to the other side. He left the bike outside, and headed into this strange place of so-called anathema browns.

He turned on the light... and was greeted by a sight that he would remember for the rest of his life. Far above him, on the ceiling, was a great city of stalactites, made of crenellated towers, and skyscrapers, and hundreds of littler buttresses. It was strange and grand. He almost took his hat off in respect, then remembered that the light was attached to it. "By the gods..." He whispered. The lightly meditative sound of dropping water filled the room. There was the faint smell of mildew that had grown in the damp for years before man existed, and would exist likely forever after.

But now to explore... and see if he was right in assuming what could resist the power of blue and the Destroyer. Elliot looked left and right, and the stillness of the place was amazing.

You'd think the Step would have taught Elliot to look down, too. Something leapt out at him from the darkness, and Elliot rolled aside. "Where" He spotted it. There, near the ground. A mole. "Okay, boys and girls, playtime is _over._" He closed his eyes, and once more, a _click_ came into play. "Separate." The mole fell over, numbed. Elliot gave it a swift kick for good measure and continued to look for a way through the cave. His shoes touched on an edge and almost slipped before he jumped back, which caused him to slip and fall hard on the slick rock.

"Okay. That thing I just did? Don't do it again." Elliot got up. "Starting over..." Elliot found a ramp- sort of- heading down. It was just as slick as the rest of the cave, so he went down it in four-wheel drive, stumbling a little as he came to the bottom.

A few bats flew at him, buffeting each other with their wings. Elliot let them be until they wanted to take him on. When they did, Elliot grinned. "SMILE!"A bright flash filled the cave, and the bats fell to hitting each other again, screeching all the while. Elliot looked around. Seemed like a dead end; he'd have to go back up, which was something he did not relish. "Okay. Slowly. Work your way up, just like the slides back home. Use friction to your advantage." This didn't work as well as he had hoped it would; nevertheless, after several minutes of intense scrabbling, Elliot got up the ramp.

Finding an alternate route, Elliot made his way along it, getting out his rope for good measure.

He paid out some rope, tying it down, and slowly stepped backwards down another ramp. He made his way around a precipice that ended abruptly, leaving him face to face with a bear. "Uh, not good. No."

The bear clawed at him, and Elliot cleared off as quickly as he could manage. "Not good not good not good!"

Elliot never saw the razorblade stab the bear in the confusion, but he did distinctly hear the word "Freeze!" from what was becoming a fairly familiar voice. The bear was covered in a small layer of ice that it would break out of soon, so Elliot went ahead and smacked it. In the meantime, Skye landed near Elliot, slipping a little on the wet floor.

"I thought you said don't hesitate to get lost."

"Things change, Ness." Skye pocketed her razorblades.

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "Why are you calling me Ness?"

"Because I just saved your life."

"Because of a vision, Skye!" Elliot turned in a nasty spin and advanced on her. "And quite frankly, I don't want anyone as a friend who thinks that following a vision- no matter how accurate- to help someone is being a friend!"

"Why" Skye asked quietly, backing away into a wall.

"Because- Because it means that you could have killed me without a second thought," Elliot advanced. They were both against the wall, Elliot facing Skye.

"Huh?"

"Think about it. That vision could have just as easily been me dying at your hands. Tell me, Skye: are you just a seer of the future, or a participator in it?" Elliot stormed off.

Skye stood there a moment, as if she had been slapped. "Am I just a seer..."

While Skye stood in thought, Elliot continued around pools of standing water fed from a bigger reservoir above. He was still mildly impressed by the place, but it was ending all too soon. There was a light ahead, and something was blocking the way.

"Through the City of the Small you have come. Built upside down from the detritus of a million years... You, who defeated the Step's Titan."

"I did," Elliot said. "Do you know why?"

"Because you want these places of power, of course. But Mother gave this place to me, and me alone. And to protect it, Mother gave me size, and speed, and made me great. Do you want to see who I am?"

"Show yourself, Titan."

"No Titan I!" The voice boomed, and out stepped a mole, easily five times the size of any Elliot had ever seen before. "I am but a trusted servant; I do not govern."

"Then who do you serve?"

"Mother, first and foremost, even before myself." The mole protected the doorway. "And I will not let you pass, as the Titan of the Step did."

"Will you let us pass?" Skye said, walking up next to Elliot.

"This is not your fight, seer. Why do you involve yourself?" The mole asked, skeptical.

"I may only see the future. I may be able to do nothing about it because of my sight. But there are others who can. And I will help them." Skye drew her razorblades. "Because that is what I have _chosen_ to do."

"Very well." The mole looked very- tired, at that moment, as if some great fate had just been decided for him. "We had not expected you to derelict your duties so soon, seer."

"We seek passage to the Sanctuary, mole. May we pass beyond?"

"You may not."

"I, Elliot Fullerby, ask passage to save this world."

The mole laughed. "The proprieties must be observed, I see." Skye looked at the two of them, confused as to what was going on. "Very well. I have no name, but I still bar this path, for I must."

"There is no recourse, then?"

"No. There is not."

"That is a pity."

"Indeed. Let us begin then, if we must."

"As you wish! PEACE!" The multicolored whorls centered only on the mole, blasting him backwards.

"It will take more than some catchall attack to defeat me!" The mole stomped forward, tearing towards Elliot. Skye hesitated, then threw one of her razorblades. "Freeze!"

"Well! About time you showed some initiative!" The mole shouted, charging Skye even as a layer of ice formed, slowing him down.

Elliot smacked the mole. "OI! Your fight's with me! Or did you forget that?"

"This is no honorable duel, boy. She made sure of that."

"Excuse me? Someone out of the loop here," Skye said.

"Later!" Elliot shouted. "Just help me fight him!"

"You are going to need it!"

"Enough." Elliot held the pole as if to lunge, but swung downwards, clobbering the mole in the head. "I'm sorry you didn't get the rite of passage you deserved. But this has to stop. Time to leave the nest, Guardian. Separate." The Guardian fell, numbed.

"You... son... of... a..." A visious kick to the side of the head by Skye.

"OI! He's helpless. I'm just going to send you on your way. No regrets?"

"No... Regrets... you thug."

Elliot nodded. "No regrets!" And with one blow the deed was done. The mole was unconscious and shrinking before their eyes.

"Skye?"

"First you want me help, then you don't. Make up your mind or go home, Elliot."

"It's your choice, not mine. But there's something I have to do here." Elliot stepped through the hole. Skye, confused, followed.

It was a valley, of sorts, more a box canyon. And in front of them, little tracks, impossible to spot in the area of the valley. "Small traces in a place of beauty. Why protect this..." Elliot muttered, and took out the Sound stone. It was playing the first theme much louder now. "It reacts..." He put it over the footprints, and it hovered. "Here goes nothing..."

More notes played in his head, and Elliot saw

_An infant, with a cap way too big for him, just barely able to lift his hand..._

The vision was broken by Elliot hitting the ground hard. "Huh.."

"You were floating, Elliot. That's generally a bad sign."

"It is?"

"Well, I've never done it, at any rate."

Elliot looked at the gathering darkness. "How long have I been out?"

"About five minutes."

He looked a little shocked. "What time is it?"

"Around 8 o' clock. Why?"

"Because I'm about to miss a concert of perhaps the greatest jazzband ever to play the sax."

END- CHAPTER 7


	8. Have Love, Will Travel

Chapter 8: Have Love, Will Travel

Skye smirked. "The greatest jazzband ever to take the stage? Come on, nobody's that good."

"You have clearly never heard the Runaway Five," Elliot said. "Maybe that's why they gave me two passes. But for now... We need to go. Fast."

"What? I've never heard of them."

"Dear Lord, woman!" Elliot rummaged in his backpack. "I know it's in here somewhere... Aha!" He pulled out an mp3 player, of questionable origin. "Now let's see... There! Take a listen while we run."

"Run?"

"Run," Elliot started. "Then again, maybe we should wait to get through the City..."

"You think?"

"Then run.";

"Why run?"

"Because the concert starts in an hour!"

"Won't they be sold out?"

"Backstage passes, Skye! You know what, forget it. Just push play and come on." Elliot walked back into the cave. Skye, taken a little aback, pushed play before she realized what she was doing.

The song was 'Good Friends and Bad Friends'. Elliot could hear every note, every word, and hummed along- badly.

"This is actually decent," Skye said, as they exited the cave. She had removed the earbuds.

"Just keep listening... The next one's better. But for now, we must run. And fast."

"As fast as we can?"

Elliot shook his head. "Faster."

"Huh?"

Elliot smiled. "Shield!" A white, semi-opaque shield appeared in front of him. "Hehehe." He grabbed Skye's hand, which she seemed to think rather rude until they took off and Skye could barely keep her feet moving on the ground. Happy Happy Village went by in a blur, as did the tunnel. The shield, tested to its limits already, broke down and shattered just from sheer air friction.

"Neat shortcut. How'd you learn it?"

"... Sheer inspiration. And a headache. Let's roll." Elliot set up another shield and started moving before Skye had a chance to point out something she thought important. They were soon across the valley after a few close shaves with the indigenous trees. Total time elapsed? Twenty minutes.

"If you ever do that again, Elliot, I'm going to kill you."

"Got us here, didn't I?" He looked at his watch, then at the passes. "Come on, we've got forty minutes until the concert starts."

"What about my opinion?"

"Follow me or don't, Skye, but I suggest you don't look a gift concert in the mouth."

"What do you mean, it still costs thirty dollars?" Elliot was flabbergasted. "I have backstage passes... Doesn't that mean the tickets are reserved?"

The foyer of the Topolla Theater was opulent. It was amazing, especially with a baroque-style carpeting that seemed to go on forever. It wasn't _just_ a carpet, like the Sistine Chapel's ceiling wasn't _just_ a mural. Skye had only been there once when she was very young, and Elliot had never been; as a result, they both looked at the floor more frequently than usual, discovering unnoticed nuances.

The foyer also had two rather harried employees working the Will Call line, and one of these was trying to be perfectly calm at Elliot. It wasn't working too well. "Reserved, yes. Paid for, no. The passes get you backstage. I take it you'd actually like your second-row seats?"

"Well, yes..."

"Than you will pay thrity dollars for two tickets. They're very much a bargain at that price. Especially for two _second-row seats._ _For the Runaway Five._"

Elliot couldn't argue with the logic, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He grumbled something about skinflints as he handed over a twenty and a ten.

Skye almost had to pry one of them out of his hand.

Together, though almost decidedly _not_ hand in hand, they arrived at the second row, center aisle seats. As most of the seating had already happened, it took a little time to get into their seats.

There was no warm up act; the Runaway Five never allowed warm up acts. It was part of the charm. Rather, they decided to start up with the classic blues riff. Elliot sat down, grinning from ear to ear... Skye was looking at him strangely. Was he... happy?

Elliot cheered the band on after every song just as loud as possible. They ended the set with the most popular song off their first album, _Knock On Wood_. Skye was starting to see why Elliot liked the Runaway Five, but still didn't see what all the big fuss was about.

As soon as the set was over, Elliot cut through the crowd, making for the door to backstage. He managed to get to the door first. Skye walked calmly behind. She knew how to deal with overexcited people. She dealt with them on a daily basis.

"Breathe, Ness."

Elliot snapped back, "Don't call me Ness, I told you- See, the passes are right here, now let me and her in, okay?" Elliot was fairly bouncing to get into backstage.

"_Ness!_ Calm down! You're going to scare them like that!"The voice Skye used almost had Elliot obeying out of old habit. Then he remembered who was telling him what to do.

"Fine. But stop calling me Ness! If I've told you once, I've told you something like-"

"Five times," Skye stated.

"You've _kept count?_"

"Well, these seem to be in order," The bouncer finally rumbled, handing back the passes. "Go ahead, Mr. Fullerby. They're expecting you."

When he entered, Lucky actually slapped him on the back. "Well! Look who's here!";

"What's up? You wanted to talk?" Elliot sounded like a nervous schoolgorl. Skye was tempted to step on his foot.

"Well, yeah," Gorgeous intoned. "We gotta get outta here, man. Got a benefit in Fourside in two weeks."

Even Elliot had heard of Fourside. It was a really big city, far to the east. In fact, they'd probably need all of five days just to get to the city. "So what's the problem?"

"We signed a one-year lease."

Elliot winced. "Oh, no..."

"The option out is ten thousand semolians, and we don't got that kind of money," The saxophone player Rick said.

"You had to have made at least that much-"

"We don't got it man. Sure, we get a lotta inflow... but we got a lotta outflow too, know what I mean?"

"Aw, that sucks..." Elliot thought for a moment. "Okay. Entirely aside from the passes- which I'm going to need to contact you with once I have the ten thousand... I want two favors, one to be named later." He reached into his backpack.

"What's the one you want now?" Lucky asked.

Elliot produced both of their CD albums. "Can I have all your autographs?" He gushed.

Skye sighed. Sometimes, you just couldn't stop the child.

End- Chapter 8


	9. How He Works

Chapter 9- How He Works

The last set of the concert was an awesome display of showmanship and musical talent, as Runaway Five shows always were. Elliot was still looking at his CD cases in disbelief.

Both of them had been signed. By everyone. He was unwilling to let go lest it all turn out to be a dream. He was actually _crying_ a little.

Skye was looking around, wondering if she could somehow make sure that everyone knew she was entirely unassociated with him.

The concert abruptly ended with 'Good Friends and Bad Friends'. It was Skye's opinion that it was actually much better live with everyone singing the chorus, but nothing to be overly impressed with.

"Well, this has been interesting. Nevertheless- I need to get some sleep. Call me before noon and die." Skye left for her house without another word.

"Tch." Elliot started to walk to the hotel. It was late night, but Elliot didn't know exactly how late. "I take this to mean you want to help?" he muttered, to no one in particular.

The next day. 8:00 AM. Elliot sat, eating the complimentary breakfast of cold pastries and colder coffee, and realized just how big a problem he really had.

How the _hell_ was he supposed to get ten thousand dollars in three days? He reviewed his options. Skye's parents, while well off, were definitely not an option, neither was his own father. Even if Elliot had managed to gain ten thousand dollars over the past few days from the grant money, he was certain to need traveling money in the future.

His room phone rang. It was his mother on the line. "You said you'd be here by now."

"No guilt trips, Mom. Things came up. Seriously.";

"Oh, really? And what could be so important-"

"Runaway Five." Elliot briefly explained the situation, and his reasoning. "So I can't exactly come home. Not unless I want thousands of fans after my blood."

"You'll come home when you're ready..." Mrs. Fullerby sighed. "I remember your father was a lot like you when he was your age. Always on another road trip... Good luck."

"Thanks, Mom. I'll call when I'm ready to come home."

"Don't you dare! After this, I don't think I could stand it."

"Mom!"

"See you when I see you, Elliot."

"Bye." Elliot hung up the receiver, and phoned his dad. His account was very flush, but not nearly flush enough to allow for any sort of instant bailout of the Runaway Five, which was what he assumed.

"Okay. This is bad. I need something like five thousand dollars in three days." Elliot considered ways in which he could make five thousand dollars in three days, writing them down in a list: Assassin, Fighter, Chem Technician, Performance Artist, stripping, and Field Investigation.

None looked all that appealing, and as much of a fan as he was, he wasn't about to kill for the Runaway Five. No sir. That took care of the first two.

Elliot didn't know enough about equipment to work for a pharmaceutical company. So that was out.

Elliot looked at the next two. "What was I thinking?" He crossed them both out. Many times. In red ink.

So that left Field Investigation. But that was probably going to turn out much harder now that he'd eliminated the Happy Happyists.

Something tugged at the back of his mind. Something important. Something involving that thrice-bedredlocked man in Burglin Park. Bah. He'd remember it if it were really important.

Elliot took his bike. If he was going to be staying in Twoson a while, he may as well not be lost in it. So thinking, he decided to explore, get a feel for the topography. If nothing else, he could kill a few hours doing so and grill Skye for ideas.

There was a large road out of town. Old Route 68, if he was any judge. It was mostly south-running here, but Elliot was willing to bet that it turned east very soon. It continued west from Twoson to the coast and Jump City, if he remembered right. About an hour later, there was a quick bend in the road, leading into the mountain ranges through a four-lane tunnel dwarfed by even the foothills.

Elliot stopped at the entrance of this tunnel to look at it. Small flashes of light streaked and vanished within. The wind was moaning through the place, and the fan's hum oscillated wildly. This increased Elliot suspicion.

Elliot entered, biking. The moaning turned into a scream. The flashes turned into constant streaks, following him. They resolved themselves into glowing people floating along beside him. Ghosts.

He'd have to get off his bike to face them. He didn't want to lose the Daylong, so he kept pedaling, hopefully faster than the ghosts could.

This hope was quickly dashed as the ghosts grabbed at the wheels of the bike, slowing the wheels. A wall of ghosts appeared ahead of him- and he blacked out-

He snapped to as if from a dream. "What?" He looked at his watch. Only a few seconds had passed.

"An implanted memory?" Elliot wondered, aloud.

In any case, Elliot couldn't worry about it now. He put on his list of things to do: "Get through that tunnel" and biked back into Twoson.

It was 12:20 as Elliot biked up to the door of Polestar Preschool. Skye was outside, tending to the kinder. "I thought I told you that you aren't to go playing in the street, Jason!";

"No cars coming. Bike was, no cars," Jason said, sullenly.

"It's not safe in the street, Jason. Cars move faster than you think," Skye said, softly.

"Wun't gonna be cars for a bit."

"That doesn't matter, Jason. Ness, come one step closer and die." Elliot had been sneaking up on Skye.

"Didn't I tell you to stop calling me Ness?" Elliot asked.

"Well, yes. But then, you don't get to sneak up on me while I'm talking with the students."

"Touché."

"Mister?" It was Jason.

"What?" Elliot asked.

"Are you uh... Putting the moves on Miss Skye? 'Cos-'Cos- 'S not right."

Elliot chuckled at this. "Trust me, kid. Wouldn't dream of it. Okay, strike that. I might dream of it, but only because I seem to be getting some weird dreams lately."

"Elliot."

"Hm?"

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Right, right," Elliot mumbled. "Runaway Five. Need to help them without being a male stripper."

Skye stepped a few steps away from Elliot.

"Wha's a male stripper?" Jason asked.

"Never you mind, Jason," Skye said. "Go inside."

"But but but-"

"Inside. _Now._" Jason got.

"See they've learned not to argue with you," Elliot noted.

"I may not use psionics against them, Elliot, but I can make myself clear."

"I'll bet. But your discipline methods aren't what I'm here to discuss..."

"Oh, the Runaway Five? Let's go talk to my godfather. He generally has some ideas."

"Your godfather?"

"Everdred."

"Your godfather is _who_?"

"Shut up, he's an old friend of the family."

"I'll bet."

"I said shut up."

"Fine. Let's just go."

Elliot followed Skye's lead to Burglin Park, where they met with Everdred.

Everdred walked up to them. "See? What did I tell you, Elliot! I told you you'd get along fine!"

"Define 'fine'," Elliot said.

"Hi, Uncle Dred!" was all Skye said, in a cheerful voice. Elliot looked at her. No, no blue aura...

"Well, you brought her back safe, son... And it appears you've taken a liking to her."

"...What?" Elliot looked around for the hidden camera.

"Have you tried to kill her yet?"

"...No!"

"See? Perfect!" Everdred turned to Skye. "What happened?"

Skye related the tale of the rescue, the dropoff, and making her own way to The City of the Small.

"I see... So Elliot has visited the Steps, has he? And what did you find there, boy?"

"I think... I found something I knew all along."

"Yeah. That's how it is. I owe you a favor, Elliot."

"I need ten thousand dollars."

"So crass as to put a cash value on my god-daughter? You should be ashamed."

"Nah, man, that's not how it is... You know the Runaway Five? Well, it turns out they signed a really bad lease. They need money to finish the payments."

"Oh. So you're calling in a favor for a favor, is that it, my boy?"

"...Yeah. That's it. It's how I do things." Elliot looked down. "Favors mean I get out of debt to a person. I don't like being in debt."

"Wise kid." He turned to Skye. "You could do a lot worse."

"Uncle Dred!" Skye shouted, feeling very put upon. "Please! That rescue was for his own good!"

"Whatever you say.

They'll be out of debt tonight.

Trust me on this one."

Skye spoke up. "Now now, Uncle Dred

Please do not speak in Haiku.

It will annoy Ness."

Elliot cleared his throat.

"I note your concern.

But Skye, I've told you before:

Do not call me Ness."

There was a long pause, as they both looked at him. Then Everdred laughed, and slapped his thigh. "You know, kid, you're all right! Ow." He had slapped the leg that had the sprained ankle.

"So what now? Wait for tonight? Where?"

"... On second thought... maybe I'd better go with you."

"You don't know who the theatre manager is, do you?" Elliot asked.

"No."

Elliot sighed. "Fine. Let's just... Go. Now."

"Strike while the iron is hot, that's the way, boy."

So the three made their way to Topolla Theatre.

A security guard stepped in front of them. "Excuse me, but there's no performance here right now, so I'm afraid I'll have to-" Everdred roughly stiff-armed the security guard. "Step aside."

Everdred marched right up to the door marked 'Manager's Office' and pounded on the door. "OI! Come on! Get out here!"

The intercom clicked. "I'll let you in." The door buzzed, and swung inward. Everdred stumbled inwards, and hopped on his good foot a little. Elliot and Skye walked in a little more sedately.

"Uh... Yeah..." Elliot said. "We're here about the Runaway Five's lease?"

"Yeah?" The manager of the theatre- an alto- said from behind the massive leather chair she was sitting in. "I've been expecting you... Mr. Bund."

"Except... My last name isn't Bund. It's Fullerby."

"What? So you... don't know about the giant laser?"

"I do now."

"Dammit!" The woman spun around. "Okay, what do you want?"

"The Runaway Five leave tomorrow."

"You have money?"

"I do," Everdred said. "How much do you need?"

"Fifteen thousand."

Everdred slapped down several fat stacks of cash onto the table. "Please. I thought you were going to ask for something _hard_. So they're out of the lease?";

"Fine. They can go. Go tell them..." As the three left, the manager muttered "Needed to book new acts anyway..."

Elliot walked into backstage, where the band was waiting.

"Who's da new guy?" Lucky said.

"Someone motivated to help this young man."

"Heh. Looks like you got fans of your own, kid."

Elliot giggled. "Well, in any case, you guys can leave tonight, if you want."

"Awesome. Farewell performance, den, guys?"

The other band members gave a shout in unison. "YEAH!"

"Well, dere's your answer, pal. So. What are you gonna do wit' dat uh... favor?"

"Simple. I want you to take me beyond the tunnel on route 68. Skye too, if she wants to come along."

"Why the tunnel?" Skye said. "It's just a tunnel."

"Because it's got some kind of barrier on it. Ghosts."

"Oh."

"Ghosts? Sounds like a bell job t' me," Lucky said. "But I wonder..." The band got together and muttered amongst themselves.

"We'll do it. Meet behind the theatre after the performance tonight."

"Gives me time to pack," Skye said, leaving.

"Hey, Elliot," Everdred whispered. "Thanks for not mentioning me. I didn't want to go anyway."

To be honest... The thought of bringing Everdred along had not occurred to Elliot. He mulled over this as he waited for the second concert.

End- How He Works


	10. Into Temptation

Chapter 10: Into Temptation

They met behind the Topolla Theatre at 11:00 PM. It was a Thursday. All he had was in his backpack, and that was how Elliot liked it. All Skye had had fit into a backpack and a duffel... and she wished she had more to bring.

"Skye," Elliot said. "You don't need to come along."

"Bullshit, Elliot," Skye responded. "You know as well as I do that we'd meet again. Let's just get this over with."

"Fine. Final destination- Fourside. Let's roll." Elliot stowed his backpack, but not his bamboo pole, and climbed into the black bus. It was funny... He had always dreamed of something like this... But now that it was here and dead serious, Elliot found himself afraid.

Skye stepped on. She had left her razorblades in her backpack.

Everdred showed up for one last goodbye. "I'll let you know if anything happens here."

"Sure, Uncle Dred."

"Hey! Dreadman!" Lucky said. "If you're not comin' along, get off da bus. Cause we're leavin!"

"Sure, sure. Bully the burglar, huh? I know when I'm not wanted." Everdred stepped off the bus, and the converted school bus closed its doors.

Skye would remember the bus doors closing... Closing on her old life. Closing on her godfather and a town that viewed her as a novelty, if they thought her powers existed at all.

Gods, but she would miss it.

"The sound system up?"

"Yeah, Lucky, it's all tied down."

"Good. Let's roll. Okay sidewalk," Rick muttered. "It's time to get the hell out of my way!" The old diesel turned over- just as it always did- and the bus jumped the curb with a sickening jolt. There was a brief moment when all four wheels spun in the air, and then the tires cried out in pain, and the bus moved further ahead, into the night.

Elliot would later remember the clouds, seemingly held back by the mountain range in which the Peaceful Rest Valley was located. The southern bend of Route 68 seemed to stretch for miles... And all was at peace, a calm before the storm.

_Bad Elliot, _He thought to himself. _No thinking in clichés. _

With nothing better to do, being a little fearful of talking to the band, he decided to talk to Skye. "You ever leave Twoson before?"

"No," Skye said, in a tone that effectively dropped a portcullis on that avenue of conversation.

"Hey, boys!" Ricky said. "Tunnel ahead! Time to rock!"

"Best strap in."

"No need."

Ricky reached below the steering wheel and flicked a small switch. The tape started playing 'Let It Be' at 65 miles per hour and heavy decibel level. The ghosts? Implanted memories? Whatever- couldn't find a foothold to grab the tour bus with, and screamed off in pain at the Modern Rock Hymn That Wasn't.

They were through the tunnel after only a few seconds. Ricky switched off the tape. "See? I told you it would work."

But outside, it definitely looked a lot worse. The stars were gone. Even the moon was invisible behind thick, purple clouds. They were here, and heavy, and they weren't going anywhere.

The landscape looked just as bleak in the washed out light of the interstate as the sky overhead did. Behind him, Elliot could see the light trespass of Onett and Twoson fading behind him. Skye put a hand on his shoulder. "No regrets."

Elliot closed his eyes and smiled. "No regrets," he nodded, and turned back to the front of the tour bus. Elliot then got a look at Skye's wrist from her lowered sweatshirt sleeve. She withdrew her hand as if scalded.

"Scars?" Elliot raised an eyebrow.

"None of your business," Skye said quickly, and covered the back of her wrist.

Elliot shrugged. White lines. Someone had cut her, a long while ago. They weren't cross-hatched, so she didn't get into fights. Maybe her parents were less loving than he had originally surmised.

"Hey. Where's the bed? I've been up since eight." Elliot looked around.

"You're sitting on it, Elliot," Lucky responded, the bumps in the road modulating his voice oddly.

"You sleep in shifts?"

"Nah. But it's futonnage, all the way." Gorgeous sighed. "It's gonna be a few hours before we get to next town. We'll drop you off wherever you want."

"Hey, thanks," Elliot said.

"No problem. After all, you just gave us what is technically termed a _gigantic wad _of gas money."

Elliot laughed at this. Skye was already falling asleep, against the window. "Not a bad idea."

After a few false starts, Elliot converted one of the empty benches into a flat bed. It was just barely long enough; and Elliot wished he had brought a pillow.

"Catch!" It was a pillow. The sax player Johann had tossed it.

"Uh, thanks?"

Johann looked at Skye. "Should I...?"

"I can get a pillow myself, thank you." Skye got up, grabbed the pillow, put down the futon and was very quickly asleep, as was Elliot...

They were awakened by Lucky and Gorgeous. "Hey. We're at Barstake. There's breakfast working here."

"All right... Just give me a second..." Elliot got up and stretched, sitting on the side of the futon. He reached a hand to help wake Skye-

Skye caught the arm without even looking. "Don't touch me."

Elliot nodded. "Gladly."

Elliot jumped off the bus, landing with a soft thud that kicked up dust. The dust was everywhere in Barstake. If not for the interstate running through it, it would probably be dead- or very close to dying.

The purple clouds still hung overhead. "Anyone got a watch?"

"It's after sunrise," Ricky said.

"You sure?"

"I saw it rise myself... then it faded into the cloud cover."

_Why hasn't it rained yet?_ "So where are we having breakfast?"

"Well, it's McGrungeld's or this diner down the road from here."

"I think I'll take the diner," Skye said.

"Agreed," Elliot said.

"Yeah, that's what everyone else said. I'll be fueling up the tour bus- which is gonna take a bit- then Gorgeous will take over as driver for a while so I can sleep."

"Sounds like a plan."

"A good one too. Driving for five hours is not my cup of tea in this weather. I don't like it."

After a short walk, they came to the diner. "Ey, guys. Over here." Lucky waved them over to their table.

Every single one of them was dressed in a black suit. "Well, here they are. Now we just need Ricky."

The waitress stepped up. She was wearing a pink dress and apron that seemed to suit her predecessor three hirings ago. On her, they just made her look, well, _skanky_. Not that skanky was _too_ bad a look for her, Elliot realized, just not her style, and it showed.

"So what'll you have?" Her voice was bright, uncluttered.

"Just coffee to start," Elliot said.

"Water," Skye requested.

"There's another one coming- he's fueling up the bus."

"So that's another coffee and some water. Gotcha." The waitress was soon back with Elliot's coffee and Skye's water. "Call me when you're ready to order."

Ricky came in a moment later, and had some Deist Cola with his meal.

"So, you're ready to order now?"

Lucky nodded. "I'll have the fried skillet. Extra fried. Eggs scrambled."

"I'll take the 2x2x2," Elliot said. "Poached hard. Sausage. And high-grade maple syrup if you've got it."

"I'll take the Tower of Pizza omelet," Skye said. "Hash browns. Dry toast. Wheat."

Johann was next. "I'll have On Mighty Toaster Wings. Over easy. No powdered sugar on the French Toast."

Then came Ricky. "The oatmeal breakfast. Cottage cheese."

The bassist, Wolfgang, finally spoke up. "The bagels and lox. A side of fruit, as well."

"Dry toast," was Gorgeous's only order. "Wheat."

"Just dry toast?" The waitress asked.

"Dry toast," Gorgeous repeated. "Wheat."

"Okay, so we got a refried fried Jerry, a 2x2 poached with sausage, A leaning omelet with potato and dry wheat, The Anthem no snow over easy, some quaker fruit and cottage, bagel meal and some..." The waitress struggled for a second before finishing lamely, "Dry wheat toast. Is that right?"

Everyone nodded, a little confusedly. "Okay, I'll be back with your orders."

"See? I'm always sure about my order."

"Gorgeous," Wolfgang finally said after a minute or two of uncomfortable silence, "you're the only man I know who can live off dry toast and coffee. Don't you have any complete proteins?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"Dry toast."

"Dry toast isn't a complete protein."

"That's news to me, pal."

Skye raised an eyebrow. "All you eat is dry toast?"

"Yep."

"Right."

"But there's something I always wanted to ask you, Skye," Gorgeous said.

"What's that?"

"Could you give me a reading?"

Skye laughed. "Oh, no, it doesn't work like that at _all._"

"It doesn't?"

"Nah. I get... well, call them dreams, visions, hallucinations. They turn out wildly accurate- to a point. Call it an event horizon." Skye took a sip of water.

"How far ahead is that?" Elliot asked.

"Depends on the event," Skye said, calmly. "Certain things... I've seen unchanged all my life. Other things have changed quickly. Though some are changing now. As of five days ago, in fact."

"Five days ago?" _Buzz Buzz..._

"Yeah. All my visions started getting uncertain."

"For instance?" Lucky asked.

"For instance... I didn't see me here today. I saw myself at Happy Happy Village... undermining Carpainter's cult."

"And me?" Elliot said.

"How did you know-?"

"Call it a lucky guess."

"You were just showing up. You didn't have that marble."

"Marble...?" Elliot thought for a moment. "Oh." He shut up. Maybe telling people about the Sound Stone wasn't a good idea.

"What's 'oh'?" Skye asked.

"Never mind. I know what you're talking about, and I think I see your point."

"So I don't get a reading?" Gorgeous asked.

Skye chuckled. "Now, I didn't say _that_. You and I will meet again, in the City of Four Winds. In fact, you'll meet Elliot there, too. And a friend we'll bring along."

"I bet you'll be pretty strong by then, eh?"

"Perhaps." Skye smiled into her water.

There was an odd silence at the table. Finally, Elliot said, "Skye?"

"Let me guess: You don't want me to tell you your future." She laughed at Elliot's dumbstruck look. "It was obvious you'd say it sometime, ever since Lilliput City." She took a sip of water. "In any case, you're not getting it, country boy."

"Who are you calling country boy?"

"You, Mr. Pig Herder from Podunk."

"Take that back! I know some fine people in Podunk who would be offended at such remarks!"

"There's actually a Podunk?" Skye asked. "There actually exists a town named Podunk, Eagleland?" Skye burst out laughing. "Oh my... Podunk!" She continued laughing.

"All right, all right. That's enough," Elliot said. "So there's a town named Podunk. There are towns named Lodi, too. And let's not forget that gem of a city name, Twoson, so named because they couldn't get the rights to call themselves 'Greater Onett' from my town."

"_What_?"

"You heard me!"

"That's not true and you know it!"

"Guys...?" Lucky ventured.

"Oh, just because you're so afraid of the truth doesn't mean you have to be so vehement," Elliot said, almost calmly.

"Guys?"

"Psh. Like we'd ever want the name of a town who constantly loses to us in every way, shape and form."

"Oh, what, you mean like how we win every time the Onett Atoms go up against the Twoson Twins?"

"Well, maybe if you didn't _pad the grades_ of _all your players_ we might win because of your ineligibility!"

"Oh, you did _not_ just call me stupid!"

"_Guys!_"

"What?" Both said at once, turning to Lucky.

"Soup's on." They looked at the table. Indeed, the orders were now there. They looked at each other for a brief second, and tucked in.

Ricky looked at them. "No doubt. We're probably going to have to separate you on the bus. Either that or there'll be bloodstains on the walls come lunch."

"I can stand to be civil," Elliot said.

"You implying I can't?" Skye asked.

"Not at all." Elliot continued to eat. "Though it's interesting that that's your first conclusion."

"Elliot?'

"Yes, Skye?"

"I took a psychology course too. Drop the bullshit."

There was a moment while Elliot finished off his bite. "Is that so? I've never touched psychology. But I guess it's a vested interest for you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you thought maybe you were crazy at first with the visions, dreams, hallucinations if you will."

"Where'd you get that from?"

"Little things," Lucky said. "How everyone picks up stuff."

"Yeah, like how Gorgeous is always singing about his rubber duckie in the shower," Wolfgang popped in.

"Didn't we do a song about that?" Ricky asked.

"Not sure," Elliot said. "Which one was it?"

"You know? I don't think we ever recorded it," Lucky said. "Though I think we did it once on tour." Gorgeous blushed at the memory.

"Can we just finish our food and go?" Gorgeous asked.

"Good idea." They finished off their meals and got the check. Elliot put in his share plus tax and tip. Then, Elliot walked into the souvenir shop next to the McGrungels- and surprisingly attached to it. He paid an exorbitant amount for a pair of sunglasses.

"... And I'm telling you, human fate is indeterminate despite experiences. Free will is absolute."

"But you can't choose without a decent quality of reason. Now where's Elliot? I saw him head in here." The two arguers turned out to be Wolfgang and Ricky.

"Behind you. I've already got what I wanted." Elliot shoved the sunglasses, carrying case and all, into his backpack.

"Roy-Bonnes? Tch. Cheap pirate knockoffs."

"Hey. Shades are useful. Besides," Elliot made a cheap attempt at a leer. "What's wrong with bein' a pirate?"

"We're about to leave, Fullerby. Let's get gone before the ghosts come back."

"Come back?"

"It happens shortly after noon. They'll be swarming the town in a patrol. Let's go."

"Right. Let's roll." _Is this what life is like... ten years from now? Will it be like this all over the Earth?_ Elliot shuddered at the thought, and stepped into the bus.

It was now several hours later. "Time, anyone?" Elliot asked.

"I think it's near noon," Skye responded. "We're nearing the middle of the Stoneys." She looked at a Timmy Borthers map. "Looks like our next stop's a place called Threed."

Something pounded at Elliot's skull. He looked out the windows. There was a break in the clouds. The sunshine, now an unknown occurrence, hurt Elliot's eyes. But that one patch of clear skies definitely made him think.

For one thing, it made him think that they were approaching it.

"I think we'll be getting off in Threed, Skye."

"Oh. Okay then."

"Because that little ray of sunshine may be the last place resisting this crap." Elliot knotted his brows. "Wait, did you just agree with my destination?"

"Yes, yes I did. You'll be finding I do that a lot."

Elliot shook his head. "Whatever. I'll just go tell them."

"Gotcha. Next stop, Threed," Gorgeous called to the back. "On second thought... Hold on to your behinds, boys and girls, we're about to get company!"

Gorgeous hit the sound system. Once more, the Silver Beetles pounded out over the speakers, and the bus lurched up to sixty, then seventy. "Shit! They're catching up! And they're in force!"

"I'll pound them-!" Elliot shouted, heading for a window.

"Elliot!" Skye said. "Not your fight! Not here, not now."

"But-"

"You can destroy them all, just not now, and not here!"

"But-"

"It's their fight, Elliot."

Elliot stepped down from the seat he rushed to to get a hand out a window. Then he knotted his brow. "Wait. Who elected you moral agent?"

There was a horrendous screeching noise, but whether it was the screams of the ghosts, or merely the rending of glass by their claws, Elliot couldn't tell. There were hundreds, in a path behind them.

"Now do you see? Our one chance lies in maintaining a low profile. This is war, Elliot. And right now, we've picked the lost cause."

"So now it desecrates the dead. It's really desecrated the dead." Elliot closed his eyes. He was shaking. "Why did it have to be the dead?"

Finally, against the raging sound and pure speed of the bus, the last of the ghosts peeled off.

Elliot was still shaking as the bus pulled to a halt in Threed.

"Suck it up, pansy," Skye retorted.

"Sh-shut up," Elliot muttered.

"Don't tell me you're scared of ghosts."

"Why not? It's something to be legitimately scared of."

"Because I am not going to babysit you while you get over it. Now, are you going to get out of the bus, or am I going to have to slap you?"

"I was wondering when that would come up." Elliot sat up, slowly.

"Huh?"

"Didn't you know?" Elliot shrugged. "It's only a matter of time before any given female I meet wants to slap me." Elliot got up and walked off the bus, entirely ignoring Skye's shocked expression. Elliot rubbed his eyes and recovered his luggage.

"Where did that... come from?" Skye muttered.

"Oi! Skye! You just gonna pack off to Fourside with them, or what?"

Skye stepped off the bus silently, collected her duffel, and stood at the door.

"So, guys, I guess this is it?" Ricky said.

"No worries, Ricky. We'll meet again," Skye said, softly.

"I hope so."

"It's time," Gorgeous said.

"If you two die on us, we're gonna beat on your sorry corpses, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Elliot said, sullenly.

"Okay. We're gone." With that, the Runaway Five's bus rolled off into the storm.

Elliot turned around-

And looked right into the face of a zombie. His attack as without volition, just a swift smack across the thing's forehead. It stumbled back and then got a face full of lead. There were several more zombies behind it. "Why did it have to be zombies?" Elliot asked the world in general.

"If you want to keep living, follow me!" The man who had shouted was behind Elliot. Skye had covered her ears. He was fat, and not used to handling a gun. He had a semiautomatic which was still smoking.

"Should we go with him?" Skye wispered to Elliot.

"You got a better idea, Skye?" Elliot asked, quietly.

"Not right now," Skye replied.

"Okay. Time to set up a retreat." Elliot smirked. "Alright, you undead sons of bitches, SMILE!"

End- Chapter 10


	11. Three Penny Scream

Chapter 11- Three Penny Scream

The zombies were stunned for a moment by the blinding light. Elliot shut his eyes against it. "Forgot about the shades..." He blinked for a moment, then blindly turned around and ran.

"Hope you know what you're doing, man," Elliot said. He reached for the sunglasses. "Tell me if they're coming up behind again."

"They'll leave well enough alone. We're entering the safe zone now," The fat man said. "And call me Gordo."

Elliot scrunched his face like he had just bit an underripe lemon. "You mean Gordon, right?"

"No, Gordo. Only codenames, man. Only way to keep the zombies off us, yeah?"

"Wouldn't it be easier," Elliot noted, "to identify the zombies by, oh, I don't know... The ever so slightly, just barely noticeable fact that _they're rotting corpses with blood-filled eyes?_"

"You'd be surprised," Gordo replied, sadly. "Very, very surprised."

"So, do you have to come up with new codenames every time someone dies?"

"Nope. He doesn't remember his."

"Weird," Skye said.

"Yep. Especially as these zombies don't eat brains exclusively- in fact, they seem more partial to the heart..."

"Okay, I did not need that image," Elliot said. "I _so_ did not need that image!"

"And here we are- the headquarters of the Zombie Relief Corps!"

It used to be a three-ring circus. By the looks of things, it still was. People were running every which way, carrying supplies and information across the camp, with no apparent rhyme or reason. Far off and away, there were random bursts of gunfire.

Rather close, there was the sound of several gun safeties being taken off and bullets falling into chambers.

"It's Gordo," Gordo said. "I've brought some living."

"Prove it."

Gordo splashed Elliot with something, he couldn't tell what. He blocked it from getting in his eyes. It smelled like...

"Vinegar?" Elliot asked

"It works," Gordo said with a shrug. Skye got the same treatment.

"Gee. I feel pretty," Skye noted, venom in her voice.

"Names?"

"Elliot Fullerby, from Onett."

"Skye Polestar. Twoson."

"Okay. Go to the main tent to get your codes."

"Monatomic?" Elliot asked, unbelieving.

"_North Star_?" Skye asked, in much the same manner.

"Take the codenames or get lost," The bodybuilder, whose last name was apparently MORITA, said. "You people are just lucky we're going to accept you. Far too young, in my opinion. Scrawny, too."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Elliot slung the bamboo pole over his shoulder. "In the meantime... Let me tell you why I'm here. I'm the one they sent to investigate this whole mess."

"Wow. You're the third this week. We lost the other two three days ago. What agency?"

Elliot didn't know, so he came up with the obvious answer. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to shoot you." He grinned.

"Okay, then. Well, I'll tell you what I know."

"The zombies... came from the south, at first. With them, came Deep Purple. Trees started to die. People startd to disappear. The road through the graveyard, our last chance to seek other towns, was cut off.

"And then our dead started to rise.

"You have no idea what it's like, seeing the not-so-recently dead coming up, especially if they were old friends. It was terrible. In that first week, we lost half our population.

"We consolidated in a park, commandeering a circus that had come into town. The few scouts who returned declared us absolutely cut off. The passage through the graveyard was not only well-known, it was the most heavily guarded.

"We are currently trapped. We've done what we can with vinegar and our forces, as they are, but it's a war of attrition we can't win.

"If I might make a suggestion, investigate the passageway. See what's so valuable to them." Morita sat back on his folding chair.

"I agree," came a voice from behind them. She was blonde, and wore a blue pantsuit. "Will you help us, sir?"

"Well, crap," Elliot said, wiping his cheek. "The union wouldn't let me keep my license if I didn't." He rolled his neck and slung the bamboo pole. "One thing though- could I get a better weapon?"

A few minutes later, after some minor greasing of palms, Elliot had a stout oak quarterstaff, and Skye had selected out some light throwing knives.

"Learned from the man with the dreads?" Elliot asked.

"Yep. Five years' practice." Skye spun the knives around to an overhand stab, to underhand, to throwing position, and then back into their sheaths almost without thinking. "Don't mess."

"Furthest thing from my mind, I assure you." In his mind, Elliot wondered how long she had spent practicing that little trick, and was also restraining the urge to one-up her.

"Okay, so we're equipped. New braces... New headgear... I'm forgetting something. I know I am. Bah, I'll remember it later. Let's go."

Skye nodded.

The streets were empty. Calm. Dark. A rustle from the bushes. A groan in the dark. Far away, a feral dog bayed... and several more ethereal moans joined in the chorus. Here, they approached the graveyard. Elliot's eyes shifted from side to side, and every sound made him more defensive. His grip was tight on his quarterstaff. Far too tight- his wrists were tense. He took a breath, and walked on. His palms were sweating.

In hindsight, Elliot realized that a mortuary is not the best place to be walking into while zombies walk the earth.

This realization only came to him half a minute from stepping into the graveyard, making his way along an aisle. The faint scent of old formaldehyde and the unmistakable almond scent of putrefaction filled the air. Elliot held his mouth, unable to move for a moment as his whole body threatened to rebel.

His knees buckled towards each other. A blue patina fell over his vision. There came a small voice, far and away, at the back of his mind- and it whispered _murder... _

Elliot shook his head. The patina shattered, and the scent faded slightly.

"Go back, Elliot." Skye's voice had an edge. "I'll take it alone."

"No!" Elliot snapped. "No." He shook his head, and stood straight again.

"Elliot, you're weak right now. I saw it."

"I'm moving on, Skye. I can walk. I can still fight. And as long as I can still fight... I will." He shrugged, and started to move on. "That's what's always gotten me through. And I can still fight." He was rattling off the words. They fell out of his mouth in a rambling litany, giving him the courage to move towards the dark copse of trees ahead.

Skye shook her head. "Fool. You dig an early grave for us all. Wait-" A moment's pause, and then Skye followed behind Elliot.

In the copse was a path to a clearing, and standng guard at the clearing were men, in military uniform, from the second world war. From a distance, they looked merely haggard. As one got closer, the scent of alcohol and the stench of death filled the air. The uniforms sprouted moth holes, then the rags of being put through the ground twice, and then worm holes. Elliot could tell it was a worm hole because a worm was still crawling out of the man's skin.

As he approached, the guards stood between Elliot and the clearing. He pointed the sensor watch at them. They stared at him, and he stared right back. They weren't moving. Elliot didn't want to press combat.

"I've seen everything I came here for. Let's go, Skye."

"Leaving won't be as easy as entering."

"I know."

"We could die here."

"Well aware."

"Just saying it's dangerous."

"You knew the job was dangerous when you took it, Skye."

"Right. Die with honor?"

"Wrong. Die kicking and screaming, taking as much as you can with you." Elliot grinned.

"Just checking," Skye said. She nodded. "Nice to have you back, Elliot."

"Good to be back." They walked out of the copse, and saw the arrayed mass of living dead before them.

Elliot looked to Skye. "Throwing those daggers won't be much use."

"Yep."

"Melee?" Elliot flicked out the Roy-Bonnes and put them on.

"Powers blazing?" Skye raised her hood.

"On three?";

"Ready?" There was a brief pause.

"THREE!" They both shouted at once.

Elliot leapt into the fray, feet first. He brought the staff down on one zombie's head, planting his feet in another. Skye ripped through one in about the same time. It burst into flame and fell back into another few zombies, who eventually put each other out.

"Not effective, huh?" Skye tossed a knife into the air." Try this! THUNDER!" A bright arc of electricity blasted a zombie where it stood with a loud sound, similar to a whipcrack.

Elliot cleared himself some room... and something in him seemed to step back. Step back past the fear, the rage. It was the eye of the storm- something he had never experienced. In this perfect calm born of fear and desperation, Elliot moved thoughtlessly- action into reaction into reaction, blow after blow after blow.

Skye had found frost most effective in the meantime, and was keeping a solid barrier of frozen zombies between her and the rest of the horde.

Yet, when all was done, and they had made it to the front gate, the zombies made no move to pursue, instead picking up the pieces and moving on.

Elliot caught the next thing- a flash of blonde, far off down a main street. "Come on- we can still catch up."

"Huh? What for?"

"The only person here besides us in a zombie infested town? Gotta know something."

"Point."

Elliot and Skye rounded the corner at the same time, heading for the hotel, which the blonde was now entering. "I don't think she saw us. Let's follow."

"I'm getting a bad feeling about this, Elliot."

"I have it about this whole freakin' town. One more ping makes no difference."

The blonde walked past the check-in counter, and went towards the rooms. Elliot watched her go into room 107.

Elliot and Skye drew their weapons, and nodded at each other.

Elliot kicked the door down. "Nothing..?" He took a peek past the door jamb. He barely had time to react to the cosh, dodging the first before the mob of undead hit him from behind, swamping him.

The last thing he heard was a woman's voice: "It is done, Lord Paul..."

_Red. The kind of red that says there's a lot of heat nearby. Elliot couldn't feel the heat. Couldn't feel anything, not even the cuts on his arms and legs. He licked one of the cuts. It was salty with sweat, and tasted of brass. _

_He loved the taste. Across from him, Skye retched. "Where's the real Ness?" _

_"Right here," he heard himself say, before he screamed defiance and made to tear her limb from limb-_

Elliot awoke with a startled yell. Cold sweat. His hands were shaking. Wait... Where was... he?

It was dank, and smelled of almonds. There were several small holes for ventilation, but not wide enough or straight enough to let light in. There was one cell door. There was also one Skye, unconscious.

Skye awoke, slowly. "You okay, Skye?" Elliot asked.

"Oh, yes, we all shake off possible concussions real easy. Of course I'm not okay, you snarky little-"

"Calm down. I'm gonna try a point burst."

"I wouldn't..."

Elliot pointed at the lock. "Point- Agh!" He clutched his head. "What the...?"

"Shielding, probably. They know who we are."

"So... what do we do?"

"What else can we do? We have to call for help." Skye looked to the ceiling of the cell. "And I think I know just where to find it..."

End- Three Penny Scream


	12. Bright College Days

12- Bright College Days

There is a large country, in terms of landmass, on the northern border of Eagleland. It is known as Winters. Its easternmost province is a large island off the coast of the northernmost point of Eagleland's seaboard. This... is New Starwick. And to the north of even this back-of-beyond place, there exists as small, private, yet highly reputable college, which goes by the mane of Cowford.

In this small college, there existed many boarding houses. And In one of these boarding houses, there existed a sleeping young man, with blonde hair. Sitting beside his bed were two sets of glasses, and a soldering iron. There were various tools of engineering- drafting paper, slide rules, T-squares, and other odd widgets to make drawings and calculations easier. Also strewn about the floor were the marks of someone interested in mechanisms- wrenches, WD-40, bolts, pieces of sheet metal, and many more things besides. All of these are strewn about with no apparent rhyme or reason to them.

But now to turn back to our young man, who was having a very, very disturbing dream.

He sat bolt upright in bed, waking his roommate. "Wait! I can help!" His hand was outstretched, and his brown eyes shot open. No sweat.

His roommate awoke with a groan. "For all the saints, Joseph, summer session begins tomorrow. Why are you up in arms?"

"It's nothing, Anthony... Go back to sleep." But young Joseph couldn't go back to sleep. He sat up in his bed. _Why are those two in my dreams so often...? I should write this down._ So, he got out his notepad and began to write on it. Then, he patted around for his glasses, put them on so he could see what he wrote down, and began to write again.

_Elliot and Skye dream again. Two in the same night. The first... I was barely conscious... Elliot was trying to destroy Skye. Fire... And the stench of death. The second was far more vivid. _

_It was Skye. And Elliot was nearby too. But I couldn't see Skye's face. And she was calling me. They needed help. She wanted me to head south. Perhaps it's reflecting a doubt I have about college? I don't know. In the end, Skye turned away, dejected, and I awoke._

_These dreams will be the death of me._

He put down the notepad, and continued to think. And then... he heard the Voice. The same Voice that Skye was.

But she was only in his dreams... wasn't she?

_No. No time to explain. We need help. We're more than real. We're in Threed. You must head south. Please... help us._

Anthony sat up again. "Okay... I know I heard something. Something fuzzy. On the edge of hearing. What's going on here, Joseph?"

"I don't know. I'm beginning to think some of my dreams are real. Especially now that you're hearing them."

"And what did this dream tell you?" Anthony put a hand on Joseph's shoulder. Joseph turned his head towards Anthony.

Anthony was a red-haired young man, about Joseph's age, in fact a little older; he had skipped a form in Snow Wood just to see if he could.

Joseph sighed, and pushed away Anthony's hand. "...It told me... I have to leave."

Anthony nodded. "Why not? Finals are over, nothing left to do except go home."

"Mom's not ready for me yet," Joseph responded.

"What? A Mountie, not ready? You must be joking."

"Yeah, but where else am I going to go? I need to go south, apparently.;

Anthony's grey eyes went blank for a moment. "Cross the Loch, and you will find home."; He snapped back.

"...What... did you say?" Joseph looked over Anthony.

"I didn't say anything. But if you're willing to leave now, I'll gladly help out.";

Joseph nodded. "Anything to get me away from the Mounties! Gods, if I have to go to so much as _one more social function_-"

"Chill. Let's bust out."

Joseph smiled. "I like the way you think. Just let me get that new gadget of mine." He got up and strolled to his closet, where he changed from his long underwear into something a little more like daywear- hell, it _was_ daywear. The Cowford colors, to be exact. Lincoln green blazer and slacks over a white dress shirt- blue or green were also acceptable, but Joseph had _taste_, dammit- with black dress shoes. Joseph had bought his from the same place his mother bought her uniforms. They were surprisingly comfortable to walk and run around in, so much so that he occasionally wore them to the rugby field.

The 'gadget' in question was a small, translucent, green visor, which had a white metal band over the top. Its guts were sealed, and it had several snap-hooks. "What is that thing, anyway?" Anthony asked.

"I told you, it's a structural analyzer..." Joseph said, snapping it onto his glasses. It became undetectable, except for a green tint over his lenses. "Well, a structural analyzer, a chemical analyzer, infra-vision, night vision, and possible weaknesses, all compressed to give the user an Arbitrary Structural Soundness rating."

"You made that last thing up just to hit on someone, probably me."

Joseph thought for a moment. "Oh, you mean the acronym. Entirely accidental, I assure you." He depressed the left temple, and the tint disappeared instantly. "Just for kicks I added a gravitic compressor, both to power it and give some really neat effects otherwise not possible."

"A _what?_ Have you gone round the twist? Those are only theoretical, they haven't gone through testing yet-"

"The output is only nominal compared with the theoretical maximum. It's like a double a. Only a double-A can't do this-" he depressed the right temple and the green shading came up. "Surprisingly light, too."

"So is uranium, Joseph. At least promise me you won't use that all the time?"

"Sure."

"Good. Now let's see who can help us." Anthony used the closet in the dorm to change.

Joseph had noted a long time ago that there was tension on Anthony's part, but could never quite figure out if he felt the same. As it was, Joseph had backed off, long ago.

Anthony had broken out the fur-lined blazer as well. Well, they weren't fur lined- it was a polyester faux-fur, they'd have never been able to afford real fur.

Joseph got up off the bed, and headed for the door. "Come on. I think Maxwell is still in the lab."

The dorm commons were the gathering place for every student in Cowford. There were still some stragglers there. Joseph looked around. The day after tomorrow, they would have to move out, and the decorations for that party were now up. Lazing around were the organizers, who would also be the beneficiaries.

Joseph waved to them. "How's it coming?"

"It's going all right, man. Have a puff: the man in question passed a pipe.

"Nah. I gotta get going, need to stay sober," Joseph said. "You guys know where Maxwell is?"

Everyone responded at once. "Down in the cheese vault, countin' up his cheese."

"Thought so." Joseph nodded.

"Why you wanna know?"

"I need to leave."

"Ah, don't tell me security's gonna be an ass tonight?"

"Probably. They're on lookout for hacks ever since you boys did the Bar None."

"Aw. Well, good luck, man." They shook hands, and Joseph hauled down to the bottom floor of the chemistry lab.

In the deep, dark recesses, there was a small hallway behind a door. This hallway led two places. One was a circle vault door. The other was a locker room.

Having no business in the locker room, Joseph pounded on the door. "MAX! I know you're in there!"

No response. Oh, well. At least now, Maxwell would have no excuse. Joseph twisted the flange-knob. Open. Figured. He hauled it open and-

Max was already at the door. "Joe, my man... Have you ever heard of an intercom?"

"Eh. I can take 'em or leave 'em."

"How about a cell phone?"

"You know I lost mine three weeks ago. And six weeks ago. And ten weeks ago. I think Mom is starting to realize that cell phones are just going to get lost around me."

"By the way, I found it in the compactor. Rescued it too."

"Gee, thanks." Joseph rolled his eyes.

"So a little bird tells me you're planning on getting outta here before Mom can pick you up."

"Um, well, something's come up. Something... important."

"Oh. I see. Something's... come up. Though I find it hard to believe you'd get the guts to ask."

"Huh?"

"No worries. I'll let you and Tony off without a hitch. Not _my _job. And what the heck, as a little gift-" Max produced a key. "The master key for the locker room. Hehe. I figure- anything left is fair game. Go to it."

Joseph took the key "o... Kay..." He could only wonder at the conclusions Max had drawn as he tried to open the lockers. Nothing.

"Crap." He turned around. "Max, it's busted!"

Max walked over. "Yeah, I kinda figured that one. It's been giving me guff, so I made this machine."

"Lockpicker? Aren't those illegal?"

"Says the man who makes gravitic compressors without a permit."

"I have a permit! And it looks perfectly legal!" Joseph said, indignantly.

"Just go. And call me if you need some chat time away from your man friend."

Joseph sighed, and rolled his eyes. "I'll be sure to."

Joseph looked through each locker, finding little of value. There was an ill-fitting hat, a Nerf gun, and what, on closer inspection, turned out to be a broken paintball marker, as well as several things that at first glance appeared as useless as the marker- some leftover buckshot, a busted compressor, some fresh batteries.

"We still have a pressure tube... and a feeder. Sturdy one, too- there's no neck. Excellent..."

Someone had left an empty backpack; Joseph stuffed all the broken things into it and zipped up, taking the Nerf gun. "At least I can brain someone with this..."

"Interesting choice of weapon, Joseph," Anthony said, returning from upstairs with two cases. One held Joseph's tools; the other held his BB gun and ammo. "I thought you might like this, instead."

"Uh... thanks... but I don't think I can carry the case and the tools. You'd have to carry something. I'd rather it was the gun, I can always make another. Or, for that matter, you can send it to me- I'll keep in touch."

"Right. Your tools, then." Anthony handed them over.

"Now comes the hard part-"

"Sneaking past security." They both nodded. They were old hands at this ever since their Snow Wood days- and the more lax security at Cowford made leaving easy pickings compared to the boarding and finishing school.

First, out of the building. Then down the steps, along the quad- not across it- and then they followed the alleys. Carefully... Carefully...

And just as carefully, they walked right into Security Officer Kowalski.

Kowalski was a rotund man in his late forties, shorter and stouter than either of the two boys.

"Book!" Both Joseph and Anthony could run faster than Kowalski, who was legend for his lack of shape besides 'round'. Huffing and puffing he was left in the dust, breathing heavily into his PB unit. "I... Need... Backup..."

"Yeah, maybe you wouldn't need backup if you stopped goin' to Tom Hirton's for every meal, hey?"

"Seriously... Two... After Curfew... Headed for the gate..."

"Let it _go,_ Kowalski."

"No!"

It was in some bushes that Joseph came to the obvious realization.

"They're going to try and constrict a net around us," Joseph said.

"They only called for you, Joseph," Anthony said quietly.

"Huh?"

"They only called for you. I heard it... but they were calling you. I'll distract security. Get over the wall."

"But what about-"

"But nothing. I'll be fine. Just get out of here and do your job." Anthony stood up out of the bushes for a moment, then kneeled back down. "Oh, and one more thing." He gave Joseph a peck on the cheek. "You damn well better keep in touch." With that, Anthony was over the hedge and running.

Joseph scrambled to the wall, and found the bricks weak and easy to climb on and over. "Bye... Anthony," he said, as he landed. "Let's meet again sometime."

Joseph set off into the night, to find friends he'd never met.

End- Chapter 12


	13. King's Highway

**Chapter 13- King's Highway**

First things first. It was no use going on an adventure woithout supplies.

Joseph looked around. The student co-op inside Cowford was out, for obvious reasons; Joseph believed there was a general store nearby, but he couldn't exactly place it.

There it was. Not a quarter mile from the gate.

A sleigh bell jingled on the door as Joseph stepped in out of the cold, a great draft forcing the door open behind him. He shoved it closed again, as a courtesy, and thanked whatever meteorological phenomenon had decided not to drop snow today.

Joseph slowly turned around, taking in each aspect of the general store in front of him. It seemed to sell everything from flint spears to a laser weapon. Both of those were out of his price range, so Joseph disregarded them. There was a monkey just inside the door- an illegal Japanese import. Joseph's lips thinned. This place was not as reputable as he had expected, apparently. The two shopkeepers were staring right back at him, as if expecting him to be polite. He quickly averted his gaze from them. Another person was shopping here at this late hour. The clock said it was fifteen minutes after midnight- a small, wood-framed affair that seemed to be kept more for nostalgia value than any desire for accurate timekeeping. Various patent nostrums lined the shelves of the place, and along the walls were a soda fountain and some hot coffee. Realizing that crashing now would be a bad idea, Jeff picked up a cup of coffee and some gum- The coffee for some heat, and the gum so he could keep moving something even while temporarily stopped. Joseph paid the man behind the counter, stuffed the gum into his pocket, and-

Joseph quickly protected his pocket against... the monkey? It looked up at Joseph, and pointed at the gum in his hand.

Joseph shrugged. "What the hell, it isn't like weirder hasn't happened to me today." He offered it a piece, and it took it gratefully. When he walked out of the store, it kept following him.

"Uh... You can go away now." Joseph made a shooing motion. The monkey shook its head no.

"Seriously, go away." Still, the monkey dissented.

"I'm going dangerous places, little monkey."

It signed back "I know. You'll need my help."

"You're brave, but-"

"Just trust me."

Joseph said nothing and shrugged, moving on.

With a loud PHOONK, Joseph fired at something in the darkness, almost without looking. There was a muffled caw as the dart hit its mark. Joseph followed the Nerf dart and collected it. Whatever he had hit had dropped a rather large round confection. Joseph put it in his backpack, humming "C is for Cookie (and That's Good Enough for Me)".

Joseph pressed on into the night, his night vision ratcheted to log two. He moved through a small clump of trees, heading downhill. Between one clump of trees and a larger forest, there was a tent. A tent with a light source, more accurately. Joseph turned down the night vision and scratched on the tent.

"Come in! But... Mind the equipment..."

Joseph stepped into the tent, gingerly stepping around the ham radio and high-gain dishes pointing every which way. "Um... Sorry to be rude like this, but could I rest my feet a while?"

"Feel free, sir. Would you like some tea? I was just about to brew some."

Joseph sat down gratefully. "Thank you," he sighed.

"You're going somewhere?"

"Um... Just southward."

"You'll come across Loch Tess soon, then."

"How soon?"

"Soon enough. It's two miles south of here." The young man poured some tea. "So what brings you south?"

Joseph thought fast. There had to be something, some excuse he could use- Wait. Wasn't there- "I'm going to a laboratory, in the south. I'm not sure exactly where it is, but um... I thought I could... take a tour."

"That so? I heard about them. Aren't they doing nuclear research?"

"I always heard optics, myself..."

"Huh. Well, good luck getting in, then."

"Uh... Sure." Joseph stepped out of the tent.

Out of curiosity, the radio nut looked into the bottom of Joseph's cup. "Oh, man. Oh, _man._ _Oh man_!" He blinked. "No, wait, that's not right... Maybe if I turn it like this..."

Outside the tent, the monkey was waiting. He was blowing a piece of bubble gum into a bubble. Joseph reached into his pocket. Sure enough, a piece was missing. "Well. That explains a lot," he said, raising his eyebrow.

Keep moving. Even with the fur jacket, Joseph still felt the chill. There were times he wished he had good natural insulation, and wondered why it was humanity had lost the fur.

It was in this contemplative state that some sort of territorial goat caught him in the small of the back with a head butt. The impact hurt- a lot- but Joseph could still stand, so it didn't seem like anything was broken. He pressed the left temple on his glasses, dodging around its next charge, though this cause his back to give a warning twinge.

He started to pump Nerf balls into it at an amazing rate. Phoonkaphoonkaphoonkaphoonk. It hit the goat in the back of the head, and only seemed to serve to enrage it further. The scanner gave its report. It was vulnerable to burning... and couldn't take blunt trauma to the tip of the nose very easily. But how would he manage to give it blunt trauma to the tip of its nose? "Fecking useless." The goat lowered its head to charge again.

Joseph backed to the side- and saw the monkey standing there. In an underhand swing, it caught the goat on the nose. The goat reared up, blinking. It walked off, almost calm- at least, as calm as goats ever get.

"O...Kay..." Joseph recovered his Nerf darts and reloaded them.

The glasses warned of an unidentified waveform in some pretty wide bands, but almost... Quantized? Joseph saved the info to his palmtop- he could figure that one out _later_. More imperative was a place he could rest his back, out of this pervading cold. Even through his gloves, he was starting to feel like his fingers were numb. Much longer and he didn't like his chances.

The area was heavily wooded and Joseph was itching at every sound. He didn't like it at all. He expected some sort of ambush at every bend. He cautiously peeked from behind trees before moving through the path. Occasionally, he was barely able to spot a crow, and fired- only to miss his first shot and have the crow come after his face. In both cases, another shot discouraged the things.

And then, there was the temporary camp. By his palmtop's estimation, it had taken him three hours to get from Cowford to the camp, not including the half-hour's rest for tea. That assumed, of course, that he could take the general store's clock at its word, which he presumed unlikely. It might have been longer- or shorter.

"Fifteen minutes to five... The sun will rise in about..." Joseph looked at the sky. It was just barely beginning to lighten, and nowhere near appreciably. "one and three-quarters, maybe two hours. Let's see if someone's up."

Zipped and dark seemed to describe the tents along the- shore? Looked like it- all across the frozen beach. Small ice chunks slowly cracked off the iced sand and into the body of water, which Joseph could only assume was Loch Tess.

Nobody had so much as a reading light on, though somewhere in the distance, a weather report played o some radio. "And for tomorrow in the New Starwick area, expect winds in excess of 20 miles per hour combined with blue skies..."

Joseph sighed and wrapped his jacket a little tighter, looking for some sign of life in these tents. Still nothing. There was a cliff ahead, and the faintest stirrings of the land breeze chilled him.

Someone must have heard his vague crunchings against the ice and snow on the shore, because one tent was opening somewhere in the dead calm of the night, above the near-silent sluggish slosh of the waves. "Ook."

Joseph slowly drew the Nerf gun into a ready position. Whose tent had opened? Were they coming?

"Hey, idiot. Get in out of the cold." A hand waved him into a tent, and Joseph gladly obliged.

"So... why'd you call me in?"

"Because I'm a light sleeper. Your crunching and your monkey's calls after you ooking and eeking got me awake. I'd rather you in here ooking and eeking and crunching, maybe then I can get some sleep around here."

"...Where's here? And what's with all the tents?"

The young man, who, Joseph realized, was both unkempt and a little, well, dirty, with oily hair and pocked skin, looked at Joseph strangely. "What else would a group of tents be doing on Loch Tess? We're Tessie Watchers."

Joseph stifled a guffaw. "That old wives' tale? I haven't heard that one in years... Ever since my mother told it to me as a bedtime story!"

"Damn. I might as well have told you we were members of the Flat Earth Association."

"Oh, no, it's nothing like that. You're looking for evidence." Joseph nodded. "I just thought it well... A little silly, I suppose. Maybe people thought that way about Peter Fleming, too."

The young man smiled. "You may be right, at that. But I'll bet you've been walking a while... And I want to get some sleep. So if you would kindly pull up some ground, we can continue this in the morning."

"With pleasure."

And so dawn came, and the youmg man woke up, and stepped out into the wind. "Ah. It's bracing. If there's any time for Tessie to come up for air, now's the time!"

Joseph was a slower riser. "Hm? I suppose." A few leaves floated by, ripped from the trees. Joseph watched them go by, and smiled.

"Well, come on to the campfire, buddy!"

"Name's Joseph," Joseph responded.

"That's funny. I knew a man with a patchwork cloak once who had that name..." The young man looked at him. "But he looked nothing like you." And before Joseph could puzzle that through and ask him his name, the unclean man walked towards the pot fire.

The smell of cooking rashers and boiling oatmeal came to Joseph's nose, as well as the smell of scorched oats. Some fruit and carrot juice later, it made a respectable meal, if a humble one. The monkey contented itself with foliage scrounged from the ground.

Eventually, everyone lined the shores, in selected places. Machinery was hastily erected, and the sounds of electric drills filledthe air, along with the howl of the wind. Joseph kept his hands in his slacks, even though the wind blew rather uncomfortably through his blazer as he did so.

"What are we watching for, anyway?" Joseph finally asked, to no one in particular.

It was then his unkempt friend showed up. "I don't know what they're watching... But I'd look at your bubble monkey, if I was you." He pointed it out... It was on a small peninsula, and beckoning Joseph over.

"...What in the world...?"

"I don't know, but methinks we'd do well to check it out." The two of them proceeded at a calm pace to join the monkey, who was now blowing the most enormous bubble Joseph had ever seen, so enormous that he had o wonder how the poor monkey was going to keep it inflated. But keep it inflated he did, and soon, he wasn't merely bowing the bubble, the bubble was- _rising_-

"Oh, my... Stars and whiskers..." Joseph murnured.

"Indeed," his friend said cheerfully. "But I think you'll find that the water's a little more fascinating!"

"Hm?" Joseph tore his attention from the monkey to the water below it, and bubbles were rising up from the ground... Then a large, flat platform, about wide enough for a man to stand upon comfortably, colored a strange shade of purple, rose with it.

Only the platform had _eyes_-

Joseph's eyes became wider. "No... Way..."

The other man only smiled, and nodded as the bubble monkey landed on top of-

"Tessie's head... That has to be Tessie's head." And slowly, the behemoth rose from the deep waters of the loch, and came alongside the peninsula.

"I think she wants you to get on, Joseph."

He stepped on, but realized something important. "Wait! What's your name?"

" Amun-Ra Ramses the First, of course!" And then he laughed.

Until the day he died, Joseph never knew if that young man was serious or not, laughing as the wind and leaves and ice crystals slowly closed over the camp of the Tessie Watchers.

END


	14. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

**Chapter 14: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road**

Joseph, no longer able to see the shore, took a closer look at the being known as Tessie. Its skull was very flat... and it didn't seem interested in either the bubble monkey or himself as a meal. What was it living on, and why was it... purple?

The monkey quickly jumped to the platform with Joseph, and he learned the answer to both questions when Tessie pulled up some sort of plant from the bottom.

Hours passed in the cold... He paced on Tessie's back to maintain his body temperature.

The land loomed ahead of them, out of the fog. First shadows... then the snow-coated shores. Tessie came to a stop. The Bubble Monkey leapt off, and gave Joseph a hand up.

The snow was slushy here, and turning grey. Joseph felt comfortable in his jacket for once. The boots kept our water, as they were supposed to. There was a small cliff here- just tall enough to break an ankle if he were to jump it. Also here was a rather large statue of a pencil blocking the switchbacks down. Joseph read the inscription:

_Patele, After Lapile, 1989_

"Okay then... That's... Not very useful at all. Good pencil though." Joseph nodded. _So, where else can I go?_

There was a small opening in the rock to the west. In fact, it was a rather large opening in the rock to the west. It even had a big sign over its head. "Brick Road Dungeon- Admittance Free. Enter Here." Joseph looked at the Bubble Monkey, who looked back at him. He shrugged and went inside, Nerf gun at the ready.

The inside of this... Dungeon? Joseph wasn't sure what to call it, really. It was as if someone had had the concept of the dungeon explained to him, and then the person had drawn out such a place on paper- those were the words Joseph could use!

The whole thing looked _under construction_. There were little ankle-high pitons all up and down multiple pathways. Jeff could even see the other end of it in the distance. The ground was cinder and scrunched politely under Joseph's boots. It was warm.

Seeing no real reason to bother with pretending that this was a real maze, Joseph stepped over one of the piton walls.

Then the alarm started screaming a loud background of _BWOOT_s while a slightly calm, ever-so-barely-noticeably mechanical male voice came in over the loudspeakers:

_Only cheaters and munchkins go through walls. Please do not do so._

Joseph jumped back over the wall in surprise, and the alarms instantly stopped. He caught his breath for a moment. "That was... strange."

He took a minute to map out the maze, then drew a path through it. There were several places with what looked like white packages, tied with red ribbon. Must be treasure chests. He thought for a moment, then added the 'treasure chests' to his list too.

Joseph stood up and drew his nerf gun calmly. Anything in here could probably be taken out with it, no problem. Mostly because anyone who could build something so meticulously non-dungeony as this dungeon probably wouldn't be all that clear on the concept of monsters, either.

The Bubble Monkey trotted alongside Joseph for reasons of its own.

Long practice with his mother had made firing projectile weapons near second nature to Joseph; three Nerf balls were off before he could stop himself. They hit some sort of small purple goo, which was now dissolving both itself and the Nerf balls.

Jeff depressed the left temple of his glasses, just behind the ear. "Either get new Nerf equipment, or avoid these... worthless protoplasms entirely."

The next thing he met was some sort of duck. It seemed content to just sit and stare at Joseph menacingly and quack quietly to itself. Joseph shrugged and hit it with a Nerf ball, it quacked angrily and ran off.

Joseph opened the giftwrapped box. And inside was... A croissant. A _croissant_. "What. The. Heck."

He quickly made his way through the rest of the maze, collecting some odd junk- including an old steaming iron- and what he thought to be the best of the lot- a small taser. This was fortunate, as some time ago he had run out of ammo for his Nerf gun, having had to face several protoplasms or risk setting off another alarm by going through the walls.

Full charge. According to the meter, that was good enough for at least eight humans.

Joseph idly wondered what it would do to the ducks, but decided against it.

For one thing, he didn't have room in the pilfered knapsack for an entire roasted duck, much less a half-raw one.

There was a phone there, an old black rotary hooked into the wall. Joseph paused, and decided to use it to call the dorm back home.

He got the message machine. Nobody home. He figured, but told the message machine everything that had happened. It made him feel better, at least.

He stepped out into what passed for daylight in Winters, and spotted someone in working clothes. He nodded slightly at him, and the man waved. "I see you've gotten through my dungeon. They call me Brick Road, the Dungeon Man."

"They do, huh? Guess that's how it goes."

"The pass is blocked now, but I used to talk a lot with a Dr. Andonuts. You look like him, somehow."

"I should," Joseph muttered darkly.

"Ah. I see. You should visit him."

"How? The pass is blocked."

"A tunnel was made not too far from here into the basin. It's over there."

"Why don't you talk to him anymore?"

"Because I'm claustrophobic."

Joseph winced. He'd heard of people compensating for their fears, but this was ridiculous. "You designed that dungeon?"

"Yeah. Dr. Andonuts was a real help. We plan on making a better dungeon in the near future- a mobile one! With me as the pilot. A real Dungeon Man."

Joseph blinked. "And here I thought my father worked in optics."

"He does. You'd better go."

Joseph nodded, and headed into the tunnel.

Unlike the Brick Road, this was not well lit. It was dank, and dark, and smelt of mildew that would be there for eternity.

The odd thing was that though there were pools of water and the beginnings of some sort of plant life down here, there were no animals. Nothing was moving in.

It was like Mother Earth had decided that this would be a lifeless limestone cave.

And another thing- how was a hollowed-out cave so... Real? Maybe Joseph's father was more of a genius than he had ever expected. _Why'd you let Mom leave, then?_

Jeff shook it off as he came to an obvious obstacle. It was a small cliff, with a rope for climbing.

Only the rope was above, on the escarpment, and it was far too damp to climb without it.

But once again, the bubble monkey rose to the occasion, pilfering the requisite bubble gum from Joseph's jacket pocket.It let down the rope, then climbed down to meet Joseph, who climbed it, inch by agonizing inch. His hands were burning by the time he got to the top. A way to the outside seemed to shine in front of Joseph. He approached, but something spoke. He never did know if it spoke to him directly, or through his head, because he couldn't see it, either.

_This place is not for you_

Joseph took a step back. "What?"

_This place is not... for you_

"That's... what I thought you said."

_I guard this place for the Chosen_

"...Chosen?"

_You are not yet Chosen_

Joseph nodded, then stopped. "Wait-"

_YOU ARE NOT YET CHOSEN_

Joseph clapped his hands over his ears in pain, and almost screamed.

_LEAVE_

_LEAVE NOW_

_DO NOT COME BACK_

Joseph did as he was told. As he passed through another opening to the outside, Joseph ruminated on what the thing in the shining way had meant with all that 'yet' business.

He shrugged. His eyes adjusted to the new light, and he saw... another monkey? This one with a ribbon. The Bubble Monkey seemed to take one look, and they were off like a shot.

Joseph smiled. "You earned it, friend..." and hiked on through the slushy snow and into a place he had only read about.

They were standing stones, about three times as tall as they were wide. On top of each of the dozen or so pairs was another large stone of similar size.

This was the famed Stonehenge of New Starwick. There were several in Europe, certainly, but this was the only instance of one in the New World. It was a real mystery to everyone who had ever seen it.

Joseph had no time to puzzle over it- someone was sneaking up behind him. He quickly drew his newfound taser gun and spun and leapt back as a gigantic club thudded into the ground in front of him. He pulled the trigger and caught this- dude?- in the arm. The dude fell over unconscious, just as Joseph landed hard in the snow. It hurt.

He picked himself up and recovered his dart from the... cave boy, he supposed was as good a name as any. He looked like he had just stepped off the set of some movie or other and then went on a bender. Except that the club had very real weight, and the man had a very real stink to him.

Nowhere else to go but south, and here it was. A definite shock when compared with the decidedly low-tech cave boy and Stonehenge was this sterile building in austere cream with round windows sticking out of the second story, and a large shaft sticking out of the flat roof. No fences. Not that they'd need them, really. This... was Andonuts Labs.

And for some reason that Joseph couldn't fathom, this place felt more familiar than home...

He stepped in the door, and an old, balding man, in round glasses turned from his work to look at him. There was a long moment of absolute silence as something seemed to cross a giant rift between them... yet still left the rift there, as wide open and screaming as ever.

The old man was the one to break the silence. "Joseph...? It's been what... Four years?"

"Yes... Dr. Andonuts. It's me. Joseph. I think I need your help. You see, I have these friends who are in trouble-"

"Where are they?"

"Threed."

"Eagleland? That's a long way off. But... How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"What my latest completed invention was?" With that, Dr. Andonuts walked over to the skylit area in the lab and pulled the coversheet off of-

"A flying saucer?"

"Be precise," Dr. Andonuts snapped. "This is a Sky Runner."

"Is it-"

"Of course it's operational!" Dr. Andonuts sighed. "This will be its maiden flight outside of the lab, though."

"Cool beans. How do I fly this can?"

Several hours later, Joseph sat in the cockpit of the Sky Runner, reasonably assured of being able to get off the ground with it. "Ready in here, Dr. Andonuts!" he called over the loudspeaker.

"Skylight is open!" Dr. Andonuts supplied.

Joseph hit the start button and it ignited properly. "CONTACT!"

"You're clear!"

Several pulled levers later, the Sky Runner lifted- at first in leaps and starts, and then in a smooth acceleration through the skylight, and out through falling snow.

"Goodbye, Joseph. It was good to see you... Son." Dr. Andonuts sighed, and stepped down the stairs, back into his lab.

END- CHAPTER 14


	15. This Chapter Has No Title

**Chapter 15: This Chapter Has No Title (Just Words and a Loon)**

Elliot awoke again, to the same scowling face of Skye. "They've brought water this time. Proper day's ration, too."

"Any word from our hero?"; Elliot said.

"No." Skye took a swig of water. "So what, you're just going to wait?"

"Not much else I can do, Skye. Unless you can think of some way to open this door." Elliot gave it a half-hearted kick. Half-hearted only because he didn't want to hurt his foot on the cast-iron. "How many days has it been since they locked us up?"

"I dunno. They seem to give us food and water on a regular basis. They want us alive for something."

"I hope you're right, Skye. But I have this sickening feeling that the only reason we're alive is so that someone can-"

"Well, now, Mr. Fullerby. Enjoying your new accommodations?"

That voice. That-_voice_.

"Gloat. _Pokey._"

But Skye said something different. "What are you doing here, Deacon Paul?"

"Nope. Not 'Deacon' Paul, not any more. Properly 'Lord' Paul, Paul Minch, and you'd do well to remember that, Mr. Fullerby, Ms. Polestar."

Elliot seethed through the visor of the cell wall at the vision of fat before him... but it looked different now.

He had become a little thinner about the cheeks, a little more pale than normal. "Why don't you come on this side of the cell door and say that, you lousy, filthy, cheating, lying, fat sack of crap!"

"Now, now, Elliot, there's no need for name calling." Even Pokey's grin looked like someone had been trying to teach him how. "After all, we're all friends here."

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "Funny, you never thought of that with Cherise."

"You know, you're probably going to hear this a lot from your friends, but the little lady over there does bear a striking resemblance to her, doesn't she?" Pokey indicated Skye, who stayed silent.

"Hey!" Elliot shouted hoarsely. "Cherise stays between us. Nobody deserves the shadow of the past."

"And yet, Smelliot, the shadow of the past is just about the only thing that follows us around everywhere we go." Pokey waved at Elliot. "But I'm bored, so I think I'll go catch some dinner. See you later." With that, Pokey walked around a corner and was gone.

"Coward! Come back here and keep talking!" Elliot pounded on the cell door. "I don't know what the hell kind of high horse you're on, but you'd better get off it soon, Pokey! Or it will not end well for you..." Elliot finally screamed incoherently and pounded his fist into the cell door one last time. It barely left a dent.

In the silence, Skye offered him the canteen, and Elliot drank it in silence.

"So," she finally said, "Who's Cherise?"

Elliot sat against the wall opposite Skye. "Ancient history between me and him. I should never have brought it up."

"Well, it's too late to not bring it up."

Elliot sighed and looked up to the ceiling, and smiled. "Put it this way. Cherise was a mutual friend. Functional word 'was'."

"Oh?"

"And the rest of it is none of your beeswax."

"I think I deserve to know."

"There's a lot of water under the bridge between you and those scars, and that's your business. You get to refuse to answer me about those scars, I get to refuse to answer about mine."

"Okay, what the hell is this cop out?"

"Huh?"

"Please, boy, you're dodging the question like Neo on an acid trip."

"That's because I don't think I need to answer to someone I rescued for no apparent reason."

"Weak. I saved your ass not a day and a half later."

"Do we have to go over the difference between a vision and friendship again?"

"Does you having a dream make it any different?"

"Yes it does."

"Why? There's no difference-"

"You were in my mind!" Elliot cringed back into himself. "People shouldn't go into other people's minds. It's wrong!"

"... Elliot, is there something you're not telling me?"

"Of course there is. I'm not telling you a great deal of things." Elliot put his sunglasses on. Small favors, they hadn't taken the glasses. "Expect this to continue for the foreseeable future. Even _your_ foreseeable future."

"Do you really expect to be able to avoid the question that long? Especially if we're going to travel together?"

"Yes, yes I do. Now, if you'll excuse me, we really have nothing better to do than sleep, so I think I'll do that."

"Elliot, give the 'mysterious drifter' crap a rest. For five minutes."

"This is 'mysterious drifter crap'? Pardon me, but last I checked, talking about friends- even non-mutual friends- without them present was pretty rude."

"So she's still your friend?"

"No, but I still think she ought to have a chance to defend herself!"

"You really believe that? My gods, I've taken in with a Neanderthal."

"Hey! Neanderthals were very smart people."

"They're also _ancient_, which is more my point."

"Oh, wow, so now all of a sudden respect has become an outdated concept? Well, _excuse me_!"

"Please, it's not like anyone has any privacy to respect anyway!"

"So, what, now you're a conspiracy theorist too?"

"Whoa. Where did that come from? All I'm saying is that someone has to watch those security cameras."

"Yeah, sure, fine, when I try to break up with my girlfriend in a bar I'll remember that some creepy old man may be watching me, that's a big help.";

"Well, aren't you just a bright ray of sunshine?"

"Sunshine? What the heck's that? I haven't been outside away from clouds in days."

"And whose fault is that?"

"And who decided to tag along?"

"Tag along? Tag along? Tagging along implies there's no agreement. I remember explicitly explaining to you before we got on the bus-";

"That even if you didn't come with me, you'd find a way to tag along."

"That's not what I meant!";

"Sure it wasn't. And next the Easter bunny will come and hide eggs in our nice dirt cell, just for us!"

"This conversation's over.";

"'Bout damn time."

"Oh, and just for the record? Even if I hadn't come on the bus, there would have been some contrivance that pushed me towards Threed. A very fat one, unless I miss my guess."

"So, what, I'd have to rescue you _again_?"

"Exactly."

Elliot blinked behind his sunglasses. "Screw _that_."

"Exactly what I think."

And then the cell fell silent once more, as they both kept their thoughts to themselves.

Several hours had passed- at least, that's what Elliot hoped- when there came a rap on the cell door. "Fooooooood Caaaall." Two trays slid under the door, as well as two canteens.

Elliot cleansed the stuff psychically before they tucked in.

"Why do you keep doing that, anyway?"

"We're having our food taken to us by a zombie. Perhaps it's just my paranoia, but I'd prefer not to get whatever stanky diseases it has rotting its flesh. You know, just a personal preference. I mean, if you want to be subject to all the stuff a zombie might do to a meal, then by all means, tell me and I'll stop."

"No, no, that's quite all right. Your point's well taken."

"That's what I thought."

Then Skye looked up. "You know, I just realized something."

"Hm?"

"If we're the honored guests of the Zombies-"

"Tchah!"

"Hear me out. If we are... It's entirely possible we're getting the best parts."

"And the 'best parts' to a zombie would be... Oh geez, I don't think I'm hungry anymore."

"Uh, yeah."

"You know, that's too bad. It really is high quality gruel," A female voice came from the other side of the cell door.

"Forgive me if I'm a little skeptical, seeing as how you're keeping us in a dirt cell with no beds."

"That's a problem for Ness Fullerby? I'd always heard you were made of sterner stuff than that. I suppose you can't trust tales of strength when they come from gangbangers from Onett. Oh, well."

"Right, you just made my crap list, lady."

"I'm certain that's a terrible fate." The lady sighed. "Nevertheless, you are here at the mercy-"

"Of our lord, the giant sack of lard. All hail Lord Suetbottoms, Master of the Zombies ooo." Elliot rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses.

"Insulting him... is not the wisest course of action."

"Ma'am? Anything involving that self-important twit and self-proclaimed deacon is not the wisest course of action."

"The toothless dogs growled."

Elliot looked at Skye, who looked back at Elliot. "Wow. Rather pretentious today, isn't it?"

"I know- it's like someone decided to turn up the pomp unnecessarily."

"Consider yourselves lucky I don't have the key." There was the sound of footsteps storming off into the distance.

"Sure, lady. Don't let the door hit you where my dog would've bit you."

"So you have a dog?

"Yep. Cute little cur named Azazel."

"You named your dog Azazel?"

"What? I was fifteen at the time."

"You named. Your dog. Azazel."

"Yes. Can we move on now?"

"_You._ Named your _dog_. _Azazel._" Skye burst out laughing.

"Oh, sure, like you haven't named your cat something like 'Bast' or 'Gabrielle'."

"Next you'll be telling me you named an instrument 'Depraved Eater of Souls'."

"Thoth is the weigher of souls." Elliot shook his head. "Why am I even talking about this?"

"Electric guitar?"

Elliot paused for a moment. "It's- a Doubleharmonica."

"Holy crap you play harmonica?"

"Damn good, too."

"Did you bring it with you?"

"Maybe. I packed a lot of stuff that day. But it's on the other side of the wall, in any case."

"You must play."

"It's been a while, I feel it only fair to warn you."

"Nevertheless you will play."

Elliot shrugged. "What's with women and harmonicas? I swear, you're like, the third female to ask me to play the second you heard." He turned toward her. "Speaking of which, if you want to hear me play, you'd better get an acoustic guitar."

"Why?"

"Because, you know, you play it? And I'm not going to let you get away with hearing me play without hearing you play?"

"How did you know that?"

"Good memory. It was either your razors or a guitar. I highly doubt you'd be a poser."

"Okay, so I do have one. But it's in my duffel."

"Which, with the rest of our stuff-"

"Is outside this cell, I'm well aware of this, Elliot."

"Geez, no need to get shirty with me."

"I just wish they had let you keep your mp3 player."

"Why?"

"So we'd have something to listen to besides each other. It's starting to grate."

"I think it passed that point a while ago."

"What did they let you keep?"

"Well, let's see. These shades..." Elliot searched his pockets.

Wait. They let him keep something, all right.

The one thing, in fact, he wouldn't have expected them to let him keep. "The heck...?" He pulled out the Sound Stone.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Maybe. Here- catch." Elliot tossed the Stone to Skye.

"It's a marble, Elliot."

"Just trust me. Put it to your ear."

Skye did so. The only sound in the room was that of the two of them breathing softly.

And then... Skye heard it.

"Trippy. But what's with all the silence?" She tossed it back to Elliot, who caught it after a moment of fumbling with it.

"Not sure. I think all of this was supposed to be explained by Buzz Buzz."

"Buzz Buzz?" Skye looked at Elliot with a raised eyebrow. "Who in the world is Buzz Buzz?"

"Some time traveling robot. From the future."

"Well, yeah, a robot, you kind of assume- Wait, what the hell have you been smoking?"

"Okay, listen up. I've been getting psychic powers. You _have_ psychic powers. This person we're calling probably has psychic powers too. We just came from a town that thought it could achieve enlightenment by painting everything _blue_. We are _in_ a town that is infested with zombies. I don't know about you but at this point I probably wouldn't blink if a walrus comes to break us out of hock."

"What's your point?"

"I'm saying it's just- not- that- farfetched- anymore."

"Well pardon me for living with psionics all my life, but no robots from the future ever came to talk to me."

"You're hardly the exemplary case, Skye."

"Neither are you."

"Well, what else is there to do?"

"Sleep?"

"Yeah, sure, sleep. Then you'll pull out that sharpie in your jacket."

"I have no such thing!"

"Says you."

"Oh, just go to sleep. Paranoid." Skye turned her back to Elliot, and covered her head with her hood. It may as well have been a solid wall of pink.

Elliot closed his eyes.

When next he opened them, someone was pounding on the door. "All right, you two. Wake up!" It was a male, currently strange to them both.

"How long?"

"Since you fell asleep? 'Bout four hours," Skye said, just as groggily.

"Total?"

"Not sure. Couple days, at least."

"Right." Elliot nodded. "What do you want?"

"I'm to take your water ration."

"And if we refuse?"

"I'm to take your water ration. And I will."

"Uh, I don't think that's possible without the key."

The jailer squinted his eyes at Elliot. "You win this round... But I'll be back!"

"Tell the blonde to come back- she's better looking!"

"So we can go back to sleep?"

"Yeah, but drink up before you do," Elliot said, tossing a canteen to Skye, before drinking down the rest of his and going back to sleep.

When he woke up, the canteen was gone.

Maybe it had been hours- perhaps only minutes. The Sound Stone had played its broken melody fifteen times, by Elliot's count, between his waking up and the blonde showing again.

"Mr. Fullerby?"

"Could you make it quick? I need to use the restroom."

"Trust me, Mr. Fullerby, I won't waste any of your time." She nodded to several zombies. "Bind them."

Elliot had to hand it to the zombies- when given orders they were quite efficient. The blonde locked the door behind her. "I'd say you were kinky, but that's pretty much a given when you hang around Lard Boy."

"Many more smart remarks like that and I'll make this slow and painful."

"Well, I'll be sure to crack wise now."

"Nice shades. Think I'll take them." The blonde grabbed the shades, took off her own, and put them on. Elliot caught... the faintest trace of pure blue. No pupil, no white, just... blue.

"Now then..." She drew a gun. A semi automatic, by the looks of it, though Elliot couldn't tell at first glance. "I'm sure you realize what happens now."

"Man, how cheap. I'm right here, bound, and you just put a cap in my ass. Damn, lady, I thought you had some _class._"

"You sure you want a gag? It's very certain to stink." The blonde gestured with the weapon. "Put his head to the wall."

There was a click of the hammer being pulled back, and Elliot felt the cold gunmetal against his spine. "Well, Mr. Fullerby?"

"Well, what?"

"Do you have any last words?"

Elliot looked to the ceiling, as far as he could, and smiled an inscrutable smile. "As a matter of fact, I do. Three of 'em. Eat. My. _Shorts._"

END- CHAPTER 15


	16. A New World Record

**Chapter 16- A New World Record**

The blonde was taken aback. "What the hell-" Elliot knew she was gesturing with the gun; the pressure was taken off the back of his neck. "Just for that I'm gonna make this very painful-"

She was cut off by a great and terrible noise. The ceiling fell down, and most of it fell on her zombie cadre, completely annihilating them. She turned her weapon to Elliot, then back at the thing that had just fallen through the roof. Elliot didn't see it.

Joseph picked himself off the floor of the Sky Runner. "Note to self- tell Dr. Andonuts to work on the landings." He looked out the starboard porthole of the Sky Runner. There was a woman there, with a gun. Two people were out cold- probably from the concussion of falling through the roof.

Back to the woman- she had her eyes on the Sky Runner, but couldn't be sure where whoever was piloting it would get out. _Perfect._ Joseph drew his taser. Joseph popped the hatch. A shot rang out, ricocheted against the door and implanted itself into the loam of the cell. Joseph rolled out of the now-open hatch, got into a proper shot position and let off a dart. The blonde dropped quite readily.

"You folks all right?" Joseph asked, as he collected the gun. A derringer, decent quality. He searched her for the bullets.

No response from the bound people. Not like he was expecting one, though. He pocketed the bullets, and loaded the derringer. _Clack_- the chamber fell back into place when he pressed the button.

Door's locked. Not a problem, really, but it meant he had to search the Sky Runner for a second.

"Hey! People! Might wanna wake up." He set about untying Elliot first, then Skye, laying them flat so they could breathe. As an added measure, he bound the other one.

"Hey, whoever you are. Think you could give me back my shades? They're on her face." Elliot slowly sat up, stretching his limbs out.

"Roy-Bonnes? You know they're just cheap pirate knockoffs, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, just give me the shades." Elliot put them on.

"Can you actually see with those on?"

"No, but it'll help me sleep."

Joseph extended a hand. "Up, Simba."

Elliot got up on his own. "Name's Elliot."

"I see." Joseph withdrew his hand, and went to tend to Skye.

"What's got your goat, mister?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me. Right now, there's not a lot I'm not willing to believe."

"Take his word for it, Elliot, you wouldn't believe him," Skye said, hopping to her feet.

"Oh, so he tries to be mysterious, it's all roses, but I try it and you read me the Riot Act?"

"Just take the statement at face value, Elliot."

"Fine, fine, let's just get out of here. You have the key?"

"Yeah, I think so." Joseph pulled out a key, hopelessly bent out of shape.

"Nice key."

"Got that covered." Joseph fitted the key contraption over it, and ignored Elliot's raised eyebrow as Joseph forced it into the lock. With a whirr and a clack, the door's bolt slid open. A maddening whine accompanied Joseph swinging the door open, and he waved them through. He shut the cell door behind them and locked it.

"Well, that settles that," Elliot said. "Except for when she wakes up."

"Eh, she'll come to no harm." Joseph pocketed the lockpick.

"Well, now that we've got some breathing room, I think it's time you introduced yourself, mister."

"Andonuts. Joseph Andonuts."

"Any relation to a Dr. Gary Andonuts?" Elliot asked.

Joseph knotted his brow in surprise. "What?"

"Elliot Fullerby. My dad does a lot of government work," he replied, by way of explanation.

"Whatever."

"Skye Polestar," Skye introduced herself.

"Well, that's the introductions over with," Elliot said. "Skye, do you know where they put our stuff?"

"Not really."

"What about you, Joseph?"

"What do you use?" They told him, and a few minutes later, he found something. "Over here."

"Hm?" Elliot looked down. "It's just a box." Indeed, it was a cardboard box.

"That would be a good point if we were looking for a person, Elliot. Of course it's a box!" Skye said. "Were you expecting like some sort of treasure chest or something?"

"Actually, I was kind of expecting them to gift wrap it."

"Say _what_?"

"Oh, never mind. Let's take a look-see... Yep. Backpacks, knives... My staff is, of course, broken." He held up the two splintered halves. "Ah, well. I suppose I can go with beating sticks for now."

"Beating sticks?" Skye said.

"I never learned the proper name."

"Oh," Skye said, wrapping her weapon belt around her waist.

Elliot lifted some clothing out of his backpack. "Yeah, it's all there. Good."

"It is? Hm." Joseph looked around. "This all seems too... convenient."

"Ahh, your spider sense is tingling too, huh? Then keep that gun loaded and keep an eye out."

Joseph nodded behind him. A distant groan sounded. Or was it...?

Coming up behind them was a zombie. "Company!" Joseph shouted, and before anyone else could turn around, Joseph fired. There was the sound of breaking plexiglass, and then a falling body.

"Got him. But I think I have something interesting..."

They went over to the fallen zombie, turned him face up, and stared.

His heart was missing, replaced by what appeared to be a small, now very broken, stone. Joseph gingerly removed it.

"What is that?" Elliot asked.

"Broken, that's what it is," Joseph replied. "If I had a whole one, I could tell you a little more, but since breaking this seems to be the easiest way to kill these zombies... Er... Re-kill them... Er..."

More shuffling footsteps.

"I think we'd better save the lecture on grammar, Joseph," Skye noted.

"Agreed."

"Right then. One exit, coming right up!" Eliot rolled up his sleeves, pocketed his glasses, and started running like hell in some odd direction. The others looked confused for half a second, before following him.

"Where are we going?" Skye shouted.

"To where the stench isn't so bad. At least there won't be as many zombies."

"Well, maybe they're not zombies, per se," Joseph puffed.

Elliot stopped. "Well, we should be some distance from the main force. Now, let's see here..." He poked around with the beating stick. "Ah! I thought so!" He lifted an inconspicuous bit of ground in the ceiling. A ladder fell down, along with more grave dirt. "Next stop, out of the Underworld. All ashore that's going ashore!" With that, he began climbing the ladder.

The others followed suit.

"What I don't get, Elliot, is how you knew about this exit," Joseph said.

"I didn't."

"_What? _How irresponsible can you _possibly be_?"

"Well, there had to be an exit somewhere."

"How do you know?"

"We had to get in _somehow_. And that blond was a loyalist. Besides, I don't see King Fatass around here."

Elliot took a look. "Well, why am I not surprised?" He crawled himself out, and the others pretty much looked around and nodded.

"Yep. It suits the operation." They had come up in the middle of a graveyard.

"Something about this stinks, and I don't just mean those cadavers..." Elliot said.

"Well, they're real dead bodies, if that's your problem."

Elliot shook his head. "It's not. They'd be creepy enough as fakes anyway. What I don't get is... How can you have a zombie sympathizer in the first place?"

"Hm?"

"It makes no sense, Joseph. Think about all the zombie movies you've seen. How many have any human besides the Head Honcho working with the living dead?" Elliot nodded. "None, that's how many. These things are supposed to mindlessly hunger for living flesh... So..."

"I see what you're saying now," Skye said. "So you don't think this is pure zombie activity?"

"Not of the horror movie kind, anyway. No matter what front they're trying to put up, there's definitely Person or Persons Unknown behind this."

Joseph nodded. "So you do have a head on those shoulders. I'd wondered for a minute."

"Wait. If this is a concerted effort... We need to get back to town, Skye."

"Uh, hello? Rescuer here? Expecting compensation?"

"Listen, that won't come for a while. You're welcome to stay here, Joseph, but considering? I wouldn't recommend it."

"You make a surprisingly good point there." Joseph reloaded as he spoke. "For now, however, let's just concentrate on getting the hell out of here. Do you know where 'town' is?"

"'Town' is Threed. And I've got no real direction. Skye?"

"Yeah, I know where Threed is. Follow me."

"Wait. How do you know that? We could be miles and miles from anywhere!"

"Didn't you know when you got on this boat, Joseph? We're psychic."

Joseph rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Pull the other one, it's got bells on."

"Well, if you insist." Elliot shrugged. "I'm not pulling your leg, we're real, honest to God psionicists."

"Listen. I'll believe in psychic powers if and when you display them. As for now, I wouldn't touch such fuzzy science with a ten-foot clown pole."

Skye said, "So, how is Anthony doing? Do you know?"

"Okay, so not only are you insane, but you're stalkers too. Oh, lovely."

"Tell me, Joseph, if you're so skeptical, why did you hare off after a dream?" Elliot asked.

"How did you know that?"

"I did the same thing."

"Company, guys," Skye interrupted. This graveyard had nothing like the horde in the veteran's memorial. However, there was certainly a hefty amount of things hanging around, watching them- and not all of them were zombies...

"So what, now Oscar the Grouch's departed spirit is after us too? Egad," Elliot said.

"Hm. Methinks we'd best get going as fast as may be necessary. Might I suggest the wall?"

"The wall? Well, I don't know if I can carry everybody, but hey, why not?" Elliot grabbed both Skye and Joseph by the waist, bunched up his legs-

And soon everyone felt the wind in their hair, a sickening stop. They rolled in midair as they started to accelerate- Elliot let go, tucked, and rolled. Skye hit the ground hardest, followed by Joseph, who was skilled at that sort of thing.

"Okay, Superboy," Joseph said, a little shocked. "Let's see if you're faster than a speeding bullet!"

"Ow..." Skye picked herself up. "A little warning next time, Elliot!"

"Hey, we're over the wall, aren't we? Was a near thing too, nearly tripped on the spikes," Elliot said.

They looked around. Indeed, the zombies and other assorted baddies were on the other side of the wall.

"That... That wall is ten feet high!" Joseph exclaimed. "There's simply _no way- _it's _impossible!_"

"Sure it is. I just did it, didn't I?"

"But the _forces_-"

"Listen, I'm not sure how I do all this crap either, okay? Let's just say I'm not human and move on!" Elliot snapped. He stood up and almost stormed off, except that people don't follow you when you storm off.

The wreckage of several marionette-robots seemed only to punctuate how angry Elliot was. Joseph took the time to sort through one of them, coming up with a complete stone. "Huh." He pocketed it.

"Elliot, slow down!" Skye shouted. "Out here, being alone means getting dead real fast!"

Elliot slowed up. "Come on, I know you two can walk this fast."

"Elliot, get it through your thick skull, we're trying to NOT cause a stir around here."

"Maybe you don't. But me? I'm trying to save this town. So yeah. I wanna cause a fuss." He rolled his neck and shrugged his jacket. "Point the way, North Star."

Skye just glared at Elliot, and pointed.

Elliot nodded. "Okay then."

When they got into town, some recognized them but still lifted their guns. "Calm down, I'm..." Elliot sighed. "Do I have to say it? I know I know- Monatomic." Elliot rolled his eyes.

"North Star."

"And the guy behind you?"

"He _should _be a fleshie- he just saved our butts."

"Then why is he holding an unbroken heartstone?"

Joseph sighed. "Don't be so imprecise." He placed it down, carefully. "See? It's not controlling me."

They still sprayed him with the vinegar just to make sure. Joseph sighed once again and picked up the Heartstone. "Can we go in now?"

"Get your handle from the tent. All I can say is thank GODS you're here- we need every human we can get."

"So they've started to assault?"

"Worse. They have a new front."

"A new front? You're already surrounded!"

"Yes, but now they've set something up to the south.

Elliot's- well, Apple Kid's- phone started beeping out S- O- S. he took it out of his backpack and looked at it. "Three messages?"

The first was a very familiar voice. "It's your dad. Call me." Terse, as always. And how had he gotten this number?

The second was from Apple Kid. "Hey. It's Apple Kid. You know, the guy whose phone this is? Anyway. I've heard you're going to Threed. Be careful out there- I've heard some nasty rumors."

The third was almost a continuation of the second. "I'm on to something for you. Call me as soon as you get this. I hope you're all right."

Elliot sighed. "All well and good," he muttered, "But what's your new phone number?" He deleted all the messages. "Jerk."

"Who left messages?" Skye asked.

Elliot shrugged. "My dad and Apple Kid."

"You know _Apple Kid?_ Ucch."

"Hey, don't knock him. Without him I'd never have been able to rescue you."

"But he's disgusting!"

"And how he looks is _ever_ so related to how well the stuff he invents works," Joseph said, exasperated.

"But what about Orange Kid?"

"Orange Kid?" Elliot asked. "Never heard of him. Does he sell fruit?"

"Say _what_?"

"Does he sell fruit? I mean, it seems only natural, what with his name."

"Are you mad? He's Twoson's greatest inventor!"

"Izzat so?" Elliot asked. "What has he invented?"

"Well, I'm not quite sure, but I've heard some pretty amazing stuff."

"Right. Seriously, what has he invented?"

Skye thought for a moment. "Um."

"Has he invented something anywhere near as useful as something that can delete anything pencil shaped?"

"Well, no, but Claret and Viola are always saying he's onto something big, so..."

"I'll call him an inventor when he invents something that doesn't just start singing about how great an inventor he is."

"How did you know about the Suporma?"

Elliot blinked. "What? He... Actually invented something like that?"

"Well, yes."

"And he called it the _suporma_." Elliot's eyes stared forward.

"The Super Orange Machine, yes."

"That was meant as an exaggeration."

"I know."

"Dear gods, that's scary."

"I realize that now."

Joseph tapped them on the shoulders. "If we're done being shocked, can we all head into the tent, please? I want to get this thing under a microscope. Or something."

"Right, right." Elliot led him to the tent, where he was given the name-

"I. Am. NOT. Four-eyes. Get me?"

"Well, there's no one else with the name, and we're running out of them."

"Just call me Cog."

The register was looked through. "Cog works."

Elliot leaned forward, palms on the table. They were still chafed from the ropes. "Well, now that the pleasantries are over with... what can you tell me about this so-called new front?"

"It was set up yesterday, according to the clocks. A new tent, a circus. Set up outside of town. I think they're mocking us with it, mostly. They're not advancing, though, which is the weird thing."

"They're guarding the tent," Joseph muttered. "Where is it?"

A map was rolled out. Elliot and Skye mentally traced their path upon it. Circled in red pen were the two cemeteries to the north and northwest, as well as a park to the south.

"What time is it?" Elliot asked.

"It's around 8 PM, why?"

"Should we wait until morning, guys?"

"Well, I don't see why not," Skye noted.

Joseph nodded. "Yeah, let's turn in. I have some things to think about..." His eyes widened. "Scratch that. I need a welding torch, three milliliters of battery acid, and a circuit board."

The stores person looked him over. "... What in the heck do you want _that_ stuff for?"

"_Just do it! My gods, am I surrounded by incompetents? Want anything done right, you have to do it yourself_-"

There was a ringing slap. Skye huffed. "If you do that again-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Thanks for calming me down. But I still need that stuff before this fades. Get on it. Please."

A few minutes, a beaker, and a welding torch later, Joseph was looking at the Heartstone intently under some green lenses he had snapped over his glasses. "Of course... that's why it's so _central_, it's brilliant. Well, the machine anyway. The execution is..."

"Stupid?" Elliot asked.

"Well, yeah." Joseph adjusted his glasses. "I mean, you have all this technology at your disposal- it's brilliant, the motherboard _without the chip _would make Intel salivate- and you're using it, essentially, to make a radio-controlled cadaver. It makes no sense."

Elliot and Skye looked at each other. "Get used to it."

"But now that I've got this puppy, I think I have a plan. So many plans, so little time... Excuse me, I'm probably going to be up most of the night, maybe longer if I don't get some _solitude._" If he had taken the time to slam the tent flap in their faces, it couldn't have been more clear.

"So. Sleep?"

Skye nodded. "Have a feeling we're going to need it."

The next morning. The alarms beeped at 6 AM exactly. Elliot didn't get up until 6:10; Skye took longer to get herself ready and into the mess.

Elliot, in a rare moment of foresight, had taken his pajamas. Skye had lost hers.

"Uh... Elliot... You do realize you should probably replace those, right?"

"Yeah, I know. They're borderline indecent, but I haven't had time, money, or availability lately to get a new set."

Joseph came out of the supply tent, cackling. "I did it. It took me five hours and the compressor, and the Heartstone will have to wait another night, but I did it!" He looked around. "Where's the range?"

It should be noted that he was now holding in his hand and on his belt a paintball marker attached to a _very_ large air compressor for the marker he was using. A few shaky hands pointed him in the right direction. He smiled, and made for it.

The first sound it made was PHOONT-SCKRACK! This was likely wood splintering, because Joseph was now positively gleeful. "_It works! In your FACE, Mr. Wizard!_"

"_Hey, Joseph!_" Elliot shouted.

"_What?_"

"_You want breakfast anytime soon?_"

Silence. Joseph was trudging back, the paintball marker now switched off and unplugged from the compressor. He took his breakfast to their table.

"Yeah, it works."

Skye looked at it. "Glad to hear it, but what _is _it?"

Elliot shrugged. "Similar question- what's so awesome about a paintball marker?"

"It's not just a marker, oh no. This is a weapon."

"Well, not really," Elliot qualified, "It's not-"

"No, no, that's why the five hours' work, the splintering wood- the sight's a little to the left, but that's the bore's fault, not the weapon's- it runs three times as hot as paintball is supposed to run, and for lead shot that's saying something."

"You modified that for _lead_?"

"Well, yes."

"Well, there goes the neighborhood," Elliot said.

"Stuff it, it'll work, all I need is something to test it... The forces near the tent should do nicely."

"I'd hate to see you cramming for a test," Elliot said, picking up his now-gone breakfast and moving to the men's tent to change into his clothing. It was back to his lucky shirt today. Elliot smiled, and put on the old, grey, faded thing, and shrugged on his jacket and backpack.

About ten minutes and a new quarterstaff later, Skye and Joseph met Elliot. "As soon as we get to a clothing store, I'm getting a new wardrobe," Skye muttered, clearly disgusted at her current wear.

"Out of fashion?" Joseph raised an eyebrow.

"Ground-in grode is generally considered uncouth, yes."

"Grunge is in this year, I'd heard."

"It needs to be _more_ derelict for grunge," Elliot noted.

"How would you know?"

"Would you believe I was once at a Moment of Enlightenment concert?"

"Considering you named your harmonica Thoth? Yes."

Joseph blinked. "You named your harmonica _what_?"

"Not What. Thoth. I considered What for a while though. Anyway, let's go." Elliot went south through the alley where he had originally come to the circus. And already, not a quarter of a mile away, was the othe rtent. Where the human's tent had been kept in goof repair, Elliot could see the holes in it from here. The scent of almonds. And dark shadows, moving within.

Joseph fired on the marionette before it had a chance to respond, and then there was silence.

"Nice fast draw."

"Thanks. Don't expect it to happen again any time soon."

"Keep that in mind. You have something to burn down a tent?"

"N- Wait. I do want to try something. Get me close to it." Joseph started rummaging in his backpack... where was it... Ah! "Okay, I've got it. Now let's move."

Elliot stalked up to the tent, followed closely by Skye and finally Joseph.

He expected the tent to be occupied. Elliot expected the tent to be guarded.

What he didn't expect was that the tent was quite capable of guarding itself.

He jumped backwards, almost slamming into Skye, who sidestepped him. "See, this is why I want warning, you could have hit me."

"In my defense, it has _fangs_." And, as it turned out, a very sturdy internal skeleton and some pretty hefty ropes attached to heavier pitons, which it could swing around. Joseph planted something in the ground. Elliot was too busy keeping the tent's attention to see what it was.

Skye, meantime, had just thrown a knife. Flames flashed out in a disc along its edge, making the tent catch fire. There was an earth-shakingly low scream of pain, and Skye caught a piton to the chest. Blunt end first, thankfully, but she was still flung back. The rope came back around. Elliot trapped it with his staff, and it yanked him off his feet, tossing him into the air.

Then Joseph shouted "_DOWN!_"

There was a brief hiss. Elliot was far too busy keeping himself upright and ready to roll the impact to see the explosion, but he heard it, and felt its heat. The tent was no longer on fire in patches, it was burning to the ground, with multiple zombies and other troops trapped inside.

"Leeeeeeave Honeeeeey..." one of the zombies said, struggling to escape the tent.

And then, with the smell of burnt plastic in the air, all that remained of the zombie outpost was what resembled a small, fireproof trashcan.

"What? How did a trash can survive? It makes absolutely no sense!"

"Considering that this is some fireproofing or something, I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. They had to have been guarding it." Elliot nodded. "Let's see what they were so eager to lose."

He reached for the can...

END


	17. Man, It's so Loud In Here

**Chapter 17- Man, It's So Loud In Here**

Elliot pulled open the trashcan. "Hoofah!" He shouted, as the contained scent of something _terrible_ hit his nose.

"What do you mean- WHOA!" Skye took a whiff. "What _is _that?"

"I dunno, but whatever it is, it's horrid." Elliot braved a look. "It's some open jar of something!"

"Does it have a lid?"

"I think so," Elliot called, reaching around inside. "Found it!"

Joseph caught the scent. "Murphy's Ghost, man, what are you waiting for? _Use it!"_

The smell soon dissipated, and Elliot lifted it- _carefully_- out of the trashcan.

"So what is it?" Skye asked.

"I'm looking. The jar says... It's Fly Honey. Advertised as a nutrition supplement for... slime molds?"

"Well, that explains the smell, at any rate," Joseph said.

"Ugh, yeah. You can almost smell it through the jar."

"Anything else on the label?"

"Something about not being recommended for ingestion, and... 'Bottled with Pride in Grapefruit Falls'." Elliot looked up. "Where the hell's that?"

"I don't _know_, Elliot," Skye snapped, still a little unnerved by this whole episode.

"That was a general question, Skye, don't take it personal."

The Apple Phone ringing interrupted the conversation. Elliot fumbled for a moment and pulled out the cell phone, passing the jar to Skye quickly. "Hello?"

"Hey, this is Apple Kid. I've heard about the zombies out there, and I've been trying to finish something."

"Listen, unless you have something that'll attract and trap these zombies, it's not gonna be much use, Apple Kid."

"Give me the phone, Elliot," Joseph said, quickly.

"Uh, all right... Apple, there's someone this side who wants to talk to you. Name of Joseph Andonuts."

"Andonuts? As in 'Black Snow Wood' Andonuts?"

"Just a sec-" Elliot turned to Joseph. "Black Snow Wood?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's my screen name. Pass it over."

"He says that's him."

"Put him on, like _ten seconds ago_."

"Right." He passed the phone to Joseph.

"Hey, Apple, how's it going? This is Black Snow Wood. Nice to finally hear your voice. Listen, about the zombies, they're not quite what you think. I've got some ideas myself, and we should be able to crack them if we work together for a few minutes... Yeah, yeah, I know, but listen up. You got a computer there..? I know, stupid question, but I had to ask. Patch it through your phone, I'll send the schematics as a fax." He pulled out a previously-unseen wire from his glasses and plugged it into the apple Phone.

"It'll be coming over shortly... You've got it? Excellent. Listen, we'll need to work over a landline for this, I'm taking up Elliot's airtime- Oh, it's _your_ airtime? How's that..? Oh, wow. That's awesome, man. But you see what my idea would be? Great! Can you build it? Aw, I should've known I could count on you, man."

All during this conversation, Elliot and Skye had passed the Fly Honey between them, desperate looks passing between them, trying to argue nonverbally why the _other_ one should take it. This wasn't going too well for either of them.

"Listen, The others are getting impatient. When can it be done? You've already- Oh, that's _beauteous!_ When will- Okay! Now all you have to do is get it to us." Joseph blinked. "You're sending it _how_? ... Yeah, I got that, but I don't know that service, is all. Well, if you say they'll work, they'll work. Keep in touch man, and post the boards I won't be around for a while. Personal business. Yeah, hope to see you someday too. Later." Joseph hung up. "Okay, what in the world is Mach Pizza?"

"I have no clue," Elliot replied, bobbling and almost dropping the Fly Honey. Joseph caught it and put it into his backpack.

He looked disdainfully at the other two. "_Honestly._"

"I know them," Skye said, after a moment. "They're pizza delivery."

"Lovely," Elliot said, dripping with venom.

"They're very good at timing, actually. I half-suspect they can teleport."

"With what, a DeLorean?"

"Look, I don't know _how_ they do it, but they get from their place on Main to my house in three minutes." Skye shrugged. "I have trouble driving there in thirty."

Elliot blinked in near-disgust. "How long do they keep their pizza?"

"I dunno, but it's always piping hot. They're expensive though. We tend to go with Dice instead."

"Because four radioactive surfer ninja lizards can't be wrong."

"Hear hear," Skye replied, raising an invisible glass.

Joseph looked, eyes wide in shock, from Elliot to Skye and back again. "Did you just... agree with each other?"

Elliot rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, it's not a sign of the Apocalypse, Joe."

"That's _Joseph_."

"All right, man, your call. Speakin' of which-" Elliot held out his hand for the phone. Joseph handed it over. "So, Skye, should we just stand around here?"

"I don't know, I've never tried to call them while moving, much less try to get them to deliver something for me. Really, the whole idea strikes me as a little ridiculous." Skye shrugged. "But if he can do it, he can do it."

"Well, let's go ahead and order a pizza." Elliot scrolled through the numbers in the phone until he came to MACH PIZZA. He hit Send, only to be greeted with a cheerful recorded operator's voice. "We're sorry, but this phone's send function has been disabled. It is receive only." He hung up. "I didn't even know that existed."

"Hm?" Joseph asked.

"A receive-only number."

"It's possible. Just not very useful."

"I'm starting to doubt the wisdom of my investment."

"How's that?" Skye asked. Elliot told about how he managed to get his hot little hands on the Pencil Eraser, and how that related to today.

"He must have been _really_ hungry," Skye finally said.

"No shit?" Elliot replied. "I never would have guessed!" He then turned to Joseph. "See? The natural order is restored."

Joseph looked, at best, nonplussed. "Quite."

"Aw, c'mon, man. _Smile_ for me."

"I would, but you're not amusing." Joseph pushed up his glasses.

Skye patted Elliot on the shoulder. "See, Elliot? You're not nearly as funny as you think you are."

"Hand _off _the shoulder. And keep it off." Elliot wiped off some of the grime from his forehead. "Okay, this is getting us nowhere."

"So where to?"

"Let's report back at the resistance, maybe we can get some more information there about whatever all this is adding up to."

"But what about the pizza guy?"

"He's already gonna have to run around town, let's at least get to the population center."

So they set off for the tent once more, making note of landmarks, and the surprising lack of horror-movie knockoffs. "It's quiet," Elliot said.

"Too quiet?" Joseph asked.

"Maybe, but there's been a recent rout." Elliot sighed. "Come on, let's get to the tent."

The tent was still there, and people were still there, but there was a gigantic calm, as if someone had died.

They went through the nickname ritual again. "Holy crap, you're back again."

Elliot rolled his eyes, and told the sentry about what had just gone down.

"You're joking. You have a countermeasure? I'll free up some meeting time for you right quick."

Elliot sighed. There was something about this that didn't sit right with him.

"Something up?" Skye asked.

Elliot shook his head. "No, nothing I can see. I still get the feeling that this is too easy. Someone wants us to win, and I want to know who."

"You think there's another force?" Joseph asked.

"I don't think a bunch of townsepeople working off army surplus should be this useful." Elliot took a look around. "I feel like I'm being watched."

"I'm not getting a vibe," Skye said. Elliot sighed, but let it go.

A shadow melted out of an alleyway wall, and went away... somewhere.

Elliot turned around, but shook it off, and entered the tent to talk with the council.

"So, when is it getting here?" The council asked.

"We don't know."

The council had turned out to be three of the five or so administrators for the Relief Force, as they called themselves. Elliot had seen them all at one point or another, mostly while trying to get some equipment for his crew.

"Then what's the point of telling us?"

"Well, we're working on it, and it should solve the problem. But the real reason we came here is because of Grapefruit Falls."

"Grapefruit Falls?"

"Yeah. Is it a town nearby or something?"

"Town nothing, it's just a waterfall."

"Joseph?"

Joseph produced the Fly Honey.

"Now, are all of you _sure _there isn't a town called Grapefruit Falls? Or do you want to come clean?"

"Look, there's nothing near Grapefruit Falls. Little to nothing grows there, the animals are unfriendly, and there's nobody living out there."

"So you're just going to stonewall me, huh? Well, I suppose that's a fair cop, but _I don't have time for this_."

"Well, I'm sorry, but there really is nothing there."

"Where is it?"

"To the northwest."

"Pardon me, but isn't that where the zombies are coming from?" Skye asked.

"Yes, but that's because the way there is through the graveyard."

"Lovely," Elliot replied. "Well, in any case, we're gonna need some place to trap them in if this pulls off."

"Borrow a tent."

"Beautiful. We'll let you know, but clear one out."

"Of course."

Once outside the tent, Skye said "Well, that was a gigantic bust."

"No kidding?" Elliot replied.

"Shut up."

They crossed the main street to the north, when someone tapped on Jeff's shoulder. "Hey. I been told to look for... Elliot Fullerby. He's supposed to be wandering around here, but I don't have time for that crap."

"Uh, sir?" Elliot asked, turning around.

The man was dressed in vaudeville red and white stripes, with a matching straw hat. "So I'm gonna make you a deal- I'm just gonna go ahead and call you Elliot, and give you what needs delivering, and _you_ can give it to him."

"But-"

"Don't interrupt."

"But-"

"I said don't interrupt, okay, Elliot?" The man was winking far too much.

"Dude, is your brain damaged?"

"Now listen, Elliot," the man continued, still winking like a film shutter, "This Zombie Paper is for you. Take it with Apple Kid's compliments." The parcel was shoved into Elliot's arms, and the man walked off. "I swear I don't get paid enough for this."

"That was..." Joseph started.

"Odd?" Elliot hazarded.

"Strange?" Skye continued.

"Completely off base?"

"Uh, yeah, that."

"Welcome to our world."

They headed back, and the committee laid down the zombie paper.

"Now, all that's needed is to wait a day. I suppose."

"Where are we gonna wait a day? The circus is full up."

"Well, what about the hotel?" Joseph asked.

"The hotel got us _into_ this mess," Elliot said. "Unless you're talking about some other hotel I don't know about. Besides... We need separate rooms."

"We do?" Joseph asked.

"We _so_ do," Skye said, nodding. "It's not even a question."

"Well, it has something like three floors," Joseph noted.

"Separate buildings would be favorite," Elliot said.

"I beg your pardon?" Skye said, barely hiding an edge.

"Three days in a tunneled grave have probably not done us good."

"Correction- they _definitely_ have not," Joseph noted.

"Okay. Running water, fine. Let me just see if our landlines haven't been cut."

"You're _where_?" Elliot's dad said, when he finally heard everything.

"In Threed, I told you."

"Elliot, I want you to get out of there. Now."

"But I'm so close to solving this-"

"That isn't your job, Elliot. Get out of there."

"But-"

"Elliot, if you continue the investigation there, _you are going to die._"

"Sorry. Already did that once this week."

"Say what?"

Elliot explained, in brief, exactly what had happened.

"Why are you still risking this?"

"Because I think I can crack it. And besides, these bastards give me a headache."

"Crack it? What do you mean?"

"I mean that this isn't normal- and I think I have an idea of how to stop it. I can't go over it on the phone line- I may be being listened to- but I'm going to be all right in any case. And if I'm not, well... You won't have long to find out."

"I know."

"The grant-"

"Some has been deposited to your account. And Elliot?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I recruited you."

"You had no clue, Dad. Don't lose any rest over it."

"Thanks for telling me that, Elliot."

"No problem."

ATM, Pay the man. The request for three separate floors was clearly a little odd, and they got three different suite keys.

"$180, and probably worth every penny. Take a random key. We'll meet in the morning."

"Where are we going?"

"Well, first, we're checking on the Zombie Paper. After we deal with that, I'm heading for Grapefruit Falls." Skye took a key, then Joseph. Elliot tossed his key in the air, and caught it, walking away as he did so. He waved to them. "Y'all can do whatever."

"Skye?"

"Yeah, Joseph?"

"I don't get you two."

"What's not to get?"

"I don't know. But it just seems odd that you'd travel together for so long-"

"Two days. Okay? Don't make it sound like some long, drawn-out journey, because it wasn't."

"Oh. Actually, that explains a lot." Joseph shrugged, and walked off.

"Wait. It does?"

"Well, no, not really. But I thought it'd make you feel better if I said it." Joseph shrugged again. "202. Goodnight, Skye."

"Goodnight. I suppose." Room 301. Elliot must have gotten the ground floor.

Elliot stood in the shower, letting the grime of the past week flow past him. Let someone else deal with the stench- for now, it would wash away.

So much over the past few days. The tagalong wonder was turning out to be an asset- and she was _not_ a damsel in distress, a fact which surprised and pleased Elliot no end.

Joseph seemed... Odd. He felt normal- right up until he started bitching about the soldering iron. Elliot didn't get it, but then he didn't have to.

And as for himself... What the hell was up with him, anyway? He had these powers, with little explanation and no idea where they came from or who gave them to him. He shut the water off and grabbed a clean towel. He checked on his clothes- they were washing in the small sink, cold water, with some enzymatic cleaner- just in case he got blood on them.

There was a knock on the door. Elliot dried off and got some underwear on before even beginning to answer it. The knocking continued. "Hold your horses, I'm coming over," he called. "Okay, what's your hassle?" he said from the other side of the door.

"Elliot?"

"No, it's the flying brigade. Of course it's me, Skye. What do you want?"

"Nothing really."

"Then why are you asking _me_ for it?"

"Let me finish. I want to talk about Cherise."

"There's not that much to tell, Skye." Elliot sighed. "It's one of the least important incidents in a long string of Pokey taking advantage of my friendship."

"Elliot, don't lie to me."

"Oh, sure, now you can tell when I lie. What next, are you going to start pulling Tarot cards out of your butt?"

"That's not the issue! My issue is that you're letting this get in the way of seeing straight."

"Alright, fine. Let me get dressed, and you can come in and we can talk about it."

"I'd ask what you're wearing right now, but I think I'd be in for more than I need to know."

"Exactly." Elliot looked for his semi-clean, but more importantly, _dry_ jeans, and one of his other shirts. Still barefoot, he opened the door.

"All right, sit down and I'll tell you the basics."

Skye took a chair. Elliot sat across from her. "Okay. Cherise. It's been three years since I've seen her, really. Not that I particularly care."

"Okay. This is starting to sound like one of those all-too-common stories."

"That's because it is. It really is. Looking at you closely, it's really easy to tell the difference between you two, but from a distance, I'm sorry to say that Pokey's right. You _do_ look a little like her. Blonde to dirty blonde, athletic, and there the similarities pretty much end.

"You see, Cherise is what I like to call a damsel in distress. She's the kind of girl who's always looking for a rescue- even if her life is perfect, you know what I mean? I don't know that you do, but whatever. I was a junior in high school, and well, the pretty face was more important to me than the personality. But hey, I was young, hormone-driven, and quite frankly, a little bit more of an asshole than I am now."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Yep, this is the older wiser me, get used to it. But anyway, I was a pretty big kid on campus. Youngest ringleader of any of Onett's three youth gangs in _ever_. Further, I was actually forcing most of the Untouchables to go straight."

"How is this important to the story?"

"You'll see. Anyway, it was down to me and a few of my closest friends by then. You wouldn't know them, 'cept for Pokey. Pokey was a special case. I'd known him since late elementary school, when I acted as a charismatic bullykiller."

"Oh, bullshit. You just bullied the bullies."

"Like you didn't?"

Skye said nothing, but motioned for him to continue.

"That's what I thought. In any case, Pokey was one of my oldest friends, and I had a bit of a blind spot towards him.

"He abused it with alarming frequency, mostly to get people he owed money to off his back. But, well, his brother was much cooler. I was kind of a father to the boy. I taught him how to fight, how to work hard, how to take consequences. In short, I taught him how not to be Pokey, though I didn't know it at the time. I still like Picky. Pity his parents ignore him, really."

"You're kidding."

"I shit you not. So you have Picky- really, one of my best friends. You have Pokey- who is actually taking advantage of me. You got my friends. And you have Cherise, who just seemed to waltz into my life one day."

"_Waltz_?"

"Yeah, you know, like all of a sudden they've always been in your dance. Graceful social mover, really. And, well, because I was more concerned with a pretty face than with who I was actually dating, we started dating. And for a while it was good.

"And then the boom dropped.

"One of Pokey's creditors caught up to me, jumped me in an alley. He told me about how Pokey had kept borrowing from him and not paying him back. It was a very good thing he looked familiar- in fact, he was one of the most persistent of Pokey's supposed tormentors."

"I think I see where this is going."

"Oh, it gets better. So I find Pokey, and ask why he hasn't been paying back his loans. He waffles. I tell him not to hide behind me anymore, and he brings up Picky as someone I protect in the same way. I disagree. Loudly. Now with this fear of God or something- I don't know what- Pokey starts blabbing about how Cherise has been cheating on me."

"Oh, no. He didn't do what I think he did."

"It gets better. So I confront Cherise with this choice bit of information. Note here that I still think of Pokey as my best friend, a little off-course, but a good apple, overall. And Cherise takes me aside and says, 'Do you know who?' And I shake my head, no I don't.

"_Guess whose name pops up._"

Skye winced. "Paul Minch?"

Elliot nodded. "Paul Minch. The SOB didn't have the guts to tell me himself, so he set Cherise up for the fall. As you can probably imagine, this pissed me off no end. So I get to Pokey's house, and he's not there. Picky is there. Alone. No parents, no brother. He's sitting there, in the dark, trying to do his homework by flashlight because the circuit broke."

"Holy crap."

"I know. So I turn on the lights, ask him where Pokey is. Picky shrugs, says 'Probably that girl's house,' and goes back to his homework.

"By now, I'm about ready to rip Pokey apart. He wasn't fat then, but we both knew who would win if it came to blows- I was not the leader of the Untouchables for nothing. So I head over to Cherise's. And that was the long kiss goodnight."

"What happened?"

"Well, Pokey was getting thrown out on his ass. Something about being a coward. Then she saw me. And she saw Pokey, and looked to blame him for everything.

"It was like the heavens opened. She had waltzed into my life to be with Pokey, a far prettier face than I."

"You're joking."

"No. Pokey was buff back then." Elliot sighed. "But at that point, I knew that everything that Cherise and Pokey had done was a lie. Pokey was trying to get me to work against Cherise, Cherise was trying to work me against Pokey, and I was just looking at them in sheer disbelief. So I grabbed on to the first bit of stability that presented itself.

"I nailed Pokey to Picky's cross."

"Say what?"

"It goes like this. You ask a guy what they're doing here when their little brother is home alone, and well, the situation they're in, whatever situation, goes right to crap. Especially as Cherise didn't know about this little brother.

"I'll give Cherise credit- she cares about kids. She recovered from the shock and laid right into Pokey. And then I looked at her, and said, 'You're in enough trouble.' And then I turned to Pokey.

"'Pokey, you lying, cheating, cowardly bastard. You are going home, and you are going to take care of Picky, and if I hear you so much as put _one_ toe out of line with that boy, _you will reap the whirlwind_.'" Elliot smiled. "I remember those words exactly. Most appropriate words I ever said to him. I left Cherise there- nothing was worth this.

"So I follow Pokey home, and I hear Picky yelling in pain."

"No way. He was-"

Elliot nodded. "Had it happened at any other time, I'd have taken it as brothers being brothers, but this- this was reaping the whirlwind. But I get upstairs... And Picky isn't crying anymore."

"What?"

"Well, he's sitting there on his bed, tears streaming down his face, looking at his brother, who is on the floor, cowering from him, and he looks at me. He just looks at me, with those tear-filled eyes. And he asks me if _this _is what it means to fight. I tell Pokey to get up. And he has more bruises than his brother, in better places. At that moment- where he was still trying desperately to make a scapegoat out of someone else, this time Picky- I lost all respect for Pokey. I could feel my fists balling, and then relaxing as I realized that he wasn't even worth the beating Picky gave him. I nodded, and told him that that feeling is what it was like to fight your brother. And he nodded, and he said he would remember that.

"And you want to know the funny thing? Pokey, the next Monday, acts like nothing happened. He still tried, futilely I might add, to hide behind me. At that moment, I wanted people to stop calling me Ness. Especially Pokey.

"Picky became one of my best friends- and Pokey didn't even bat an eye. His parents, of course, didn't care either. I admit now I wasn't the best parent for the kid- I'm not exactly role model material. But someone needed to parent the boy, and so it was my folks and I that did it. I hope he's all right."

"Actually, if this is following my timeline except a few days ahead, he's been missing for a week."

"Ridiculous, I would have gotten a call by now-" The room phone rang, and Skye smiled a little knowing smile.

"Well? Who is it?" She asked.

Elliot picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Elliot, it's your mother. Where's Picky?" Elliot looked at Skye, who was very intent upon the ceiling.

"I don't know. Is he supposed to be with me?"

"Well, no. It's just that he hasn't been here for a week, and Aloysius and Lardna don't care."

"Okay, that's it. Call Child Services, I'm adopting the little punk when next I get the chance."

"So you haven't seen him."

"No, I haven't. Sorry, mom."

"Okay. Thanks anyway, Elliot. Goodbye." There was a click.

"'bye." Elliot hung up the receiver and looked at Skye. "You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?"

"Not precisely, no." She still had that smirk on her face.

"Okay, Foresight girl, you got the information you wanted, now _git_."

"Actually, I have some advice."

"And that would be?"

"Pokey's right, you're going to drag her into this, like it or don't, if you keep letting your bad blood get in the way of your better judgment."

"And how would you suggest I get around this? Hop on one foot until I forget? I can't let other people take advantage. It's that simple."

"The doctrine of equal exchange only goes so far, Elliot. Keep that in mind as we go." Skye left the room, and Elliot flopped back onto the bed, caught up in his thoughts. Eventually he regained enough presence of mind to finish cleaning his clothes, before flopping on the bed again, this time to sleep.

End- Man, It's So Loud in Here


	18. Slide Zone

**Chapter 18- Slide Zone**

Elliot awakened that morning very early to the sound of a knocking door, and dressed in his change of clothes once again. He opened the door to a few of the committee members shaking him warmly by the hand. "It's too damn early for congratulations..."

"No it isn't, my dear boy! You've just saved the town! Monatomic, my friend, you are a _hero_!"

Elliot waved them off. "Hold up, hold up." Elliot sat down. "I am _not_ a damn hero. Hero is _not_ my job description."

"Oh, but it is! You haven't seen what's come of last night. Wake your friends, come down to the tents! The sooner, the better, m'lad!"

Elliot watched them go, grumpily slammed the door, and went back to sleep, idly muttering about cracking some heads.

Another knock at the door. "_Go away_," Elliot said, his voice slurred by sleep.

"Fine, but you're going to miss breakfast," Skye shouted through the door.

"'Zit gruel again?"

"Actually, it's fried rice with stuff in it," Joseph's voice said, out of nowhere.

Elliot sat up. "What kind of stuff?"

"All sorts of stuff," Joseph said. "I suspect that if you have to ask you're not hungry enough."

"Fine, fine," Elliot said. "Give me five minutes..."

"Don't go back to sleep, Elliot."

"I meant to put on some clean clothes, Skye. Get off my shirt."

"I'm outside the hotel room-"

"You know what I mean!" Elliot said, a little too tired to really take all this in.

A few minutes later, Elliot was outside, looking at the entire town of Threed- what was left of it, at any rate, looking up at him from the sidewalk below the steps into the hotel's lobby.

He blinked. He blinked again. And then, Elliot said something that puzzled the people of Threed.

"What- the hell- are you all _doing here?_"

There was a brief moment of stunned silence. One of the braver members of the crowd spoke up. "Well, you just saved the town-"

Elliot cut him off with a motion of his hand. "Hold it _right there_. I didn't save the town. Far as I can tell, this town's still in a _lot_ of trouble." He pointed upwards. "It's still permadark, for one thing."

"Well, yeah, but-"

"And even if I did save the town- really- what do you wanna do? Have a ticker-tape parade?" Elliot shook his head.

"Well, fair enough, but-"

"But _what?_"

"The zombies- the tent- come see for yourself! They're all piled in there- and they're _all dead again!_" A ragged cheer came up from the crowd.

Elliot turned to Joseph, who shrugged noncommittally, and then Skye, who nodded.

"Okay, let's see it," Elliot said. "And the first person to pick me up is getting a smack upside the head, you hear?"

You could almost feel the townspeople collectively rolling their eyes, and before anyone could protest, all three were in the air, crowd surfing.

"Hey, no! I said _no_! Put me down!"

"Oh, give over, Elliot," Joseph said, laughing. "Is it really that bad?"

Elliot seemed to sulk the rest of the short way to the tent where they had set the Zombie Paper.

"Okay, okay, we're here, put me _down _now. Geez." Elliot dusted himself off, and caught the scent of almonds. He'd left his staff behind!

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light within, however, it became apparent he wouldn't need it.

The zombies, what few were still animate, were slowly twitching on the ground, completely useless. The zombies already inanimate were piled along the canvas walls.

"Joseph, care to explain?"

Joseph activated the scanner in his glasses. "Interesting."

"Well?"

"Originally, it just seems to have been pastepaper. You know, real flypaper? Anyway, he modified it once I'd told him what it ran on."

"So what is it?"

"You know what spoofing is, right?"

"This is a radio spoofer?" Elliot asked.

"Yep. Combined with a mild portable electric floor." Joseph switched off the glasses. "Not enough to kill someone, but I bet they wanted wellies and rubber gloves while they were hauling the corpses."

"I'll bet." Elliot shuddered. "All right, I see they're dead, can we move on now?"

"Uh, where are we going without breakfast?"

"Okay, fine, we'll get some food and then we'll get going." Elliot turned to the crowd. "Now _let me through_."

The crowd parted, and Elliot walked right down the middle. He paused at the end, framed in a sodium light. "Well? You two coming?"

Elliot walked over to the mess table.

Joseph looked at Skye, who looked back at Joseph. Joseph shrugged. Skye nodded. They both walked to the tables.

Breakfast finished, stuff collected, and generally feeling a bit better about life now that the crowd had stopped expecting miracles out of his fingertips and thus dispersed, Elliot shrugged and felt the familiar weight of his backpack.

"Okay, ladies. Our next stop is Grapefruit Falls. Through the access we go."

Skye nodded. "Weapons ready?"

Elliot nodded. "Can't be sure. No offense to Apple Kid, but..."

"No prob." Joseph already had his marker out and loaded with fresh lead shot.

They tramped north to the veteran's memorial. Nothing there.

"It's quiet," Joseph said.

"Yeah, thanks for pointing that out, anyone who says the obvious is going the right way for an ambush," Elliot replied.

"Firm believer in Murphy, eh, Elliot?"

"Damn straight." Elliot rolled his neck, and approached the copse.

It was empty, save for a single, marked grave. But the headstone, on closer inspection, was completely blank. "Secret passage?" Elliot asked.

Joseph nodded and scanned it. "Secret passage. Here, let me." He pressed a few hitherto unseen latches.

The headstone shifted to show a small ladder heading downwards. The sound was like a hundred dead bodies exhaling at once.

"Uh..."

"Second thoughts, Elliot?"

"No. Just seriously creeped out." Elliot rubbed his hands on the oak, as if to assure himself it was there. "Okay, let's go."

"Down into the depths we trudge, we soulless dolls of Daley..." Joseph intoned.

And Skye said nothing, opting instead to turn on a flashlight just as Elliot turned on the headlamp he had salvaged from the miner's helmet.

A single pale form rose from the grave and sped off into the sky.

"Holy crap!" Elliot shouted, jumping up and back several steps.

"Murphy's Ghost!" Joseph exclaimed.

"I doubt it," Elliot deadpanned.

Joseph winced. "Moving on."

"Right," Elliot nodded, and trekked down the steps.

The passage was narrow and had several switchbacks. It ran deep, until it came to a small arched doorway.

"Oh, gods..." Elliot whispered.

"What's up, Elliot?" Skye said.

"This place... It's not connected to a tomb..."

"Huh? Then what's with the- oh, my."

"Uh, guy behind you two? Hello?"

Elliot just waved him forward. His hand was pale, even in the reflected light from the headlamp and flashlight. "Joseph, we didn't step into a tunnel attached to a tomb..."

The flashlights told the tale quite explicitly- skulls were stacked in crevices in the walls, all in rows and rows, on top of one another.

"That is _not_ the look of a tomb," Joseph said.

"No shit?" Elliot said, edgy.

"I'll take point, Elliot-"

"No. No, you take the rear... I have the headlamp... I need to keep moving. Keep moving." Elliot took a breath and stepped into the catacomb, but always looking over his shoulder.

"Listen, Scooby," Skye said. "It's no good to be that nervous."

"Yeah, sure, nervous, whatever." Elliot kept swiveling his head this way and that, going through doors where he fond them. Luckily, the catacomb wasn't all that expansive, and didn't branch off anywhere.

The popping of bone signaled something nearby. "What was that?"

"Pretty creepy, Scoob, what with the sound of settling bones," Skye said, eyes rolling.

"Oh, that makes me feel _so_ much better, Skye-"

"Sh!" Elliot went silent, and the popping of bone happened once again. He pointed his headlamp at it.

To call it a dog would be charitable at best, an outright lie at worst. For one thing, it was already dead- apparently of starvation, though Elliot couldn't be sure. He backed away from it, slowly, as it advanced.

"Oh, for Pete's sake-" Joseph aimed and let off several shots. The dog jerked as the bullets hit their mark, but it kept stalking until there was a crack of plexiglass, and it shambled no more. Joseph stepped over the dog. "Get over it and come on."

Elliot ran after Joseph. Skye burnt the body, and muttered a prayer to herself as she ran after the other two.

"Dang it, Joseph, wait up! You don't have a light-" But Joseph _did _have a light, attached to his glasses, and he was using it to full effect, turning his head slowly, scanning the area.

"Just what is with you and the dead, anyway?" Joseph asked.

"I just don't like them, okay? Can we move on now? Or go back?" Elliot said, rapid fire.

"Come on, Scoob," Skye said.

"Fine, I'm going, I'm going." Elliot nodded, and took a deep breath.

"There's something ahead, guys," Joseph said.

"More undead?" Skye asked.

"Nah, it looks like some kind of blob."

Elliot craned around, and stepped ahead of Joseph. "Slime mold, looks like."

It bubbled at Elliot. "You're the delivery boys, hmmm? Where's the Fly Honey?" It foamed. Rather, it bubbled, and together, that seemed to form the words it was supposed to be saying.

Elliot looked to the others, who shrugged. "We have it, no worries."

"Well, what's the password?"

Now Elliot looked a little worried. Everyone else had their weapons ready.

"Uh, Rumplestiltzkin?"

"No." It almost seemed to smile. "Well, I was going to let you through anyway, but I think I'll have some of that Fly Honey myself..."

With that, it started slithering around on the ground, smoothly dodging Joseph's bullets and Skye's knives.

Elliot hit the deck as soon as he heard them opening fire, leaving the slim thing to get right in his face- in fact, right on his face. He got up quickly, and pried it off with the oak- or tried to, and eventually succeeded piecemeal. But as it was, the noxious thing in his face caused him to tear up.

"DOWN!" Skye yelled, and Elliot hit a wall as fast as he could. Skye threw a knife, covered in rime, which froze the pile in its tracks.

A sound of someone planting a rocket. Elliot pelted down the corridor. The hiss, and a resounding bang and flash that would have blinded Elliot- if he could have seen in the first place.

It was at this point Elliot finally noticed that his face felt like it was burning. He could barely choke out "Life!" over the smoke in his lungs and the pain on his head.

His sight slowly coming back to him, he guided Joseph and Skye to the ladder leading up. "And we are _out of here_."

Elliot bellied up to the top of the ladder, and breathed deep, a sigh of relief he hadn't known he'd been holding.

And then he opened his eyes. "Agh!" Three days in relative darkness had not done his eyes much good- the sun was way too bright. Elliot quickly put on his shades. "Blasted daystar!"

"Get over it, Elliot," Skye remarked. "Joseph, you might want to turn off the night vision."

"Already done," Joseph said, climbing out. "What are we waiting around for?"

"Our eyes to adjust," Elliot said. Finally, the scene resolved itself. It was a box canyon, still being carved by its river, but retaining a floodplain.

In fact, it was being farmed- by people who seemed to be poorly paid- very much so, in fact. They looked worked to, well, _death_- and Joseph said as much.

"Maybe they are," Skye said, darkly.

"Great. Just great." Elliot shook his head.

"Come on, Scoob."

The past half hour finally imprinted itself on Elliot's mind. "'Less you wanna get called Shaggy, don't call me that."

"'Bout damn time," was Skye's only response.

"SOP in this case is to explore, right?" Joseph asked.

"Generally, yeah," Elliot replied.

"Then let's get going. Maybe we'll find out what's happening."

Elliot only nodded, and they set off.

The zombies seemed unconcerned with the invaders, only with making sure their fields were kept clear. Staying on the path ensured they didn't attack, and Elliot was all too happy to do so.

Up ahead, the river came down in a gigantic cascade. "Grapefruit Falls, I take it?" Elliot said.

"Probably."

"Hm. That's probably no good." He looked suspiciously at the zombies. "But something is going on around here."

"No foolin'?"

"Joseph."

"What?"

"Any way out of here besides the way we came in?"

"How should I know?"

"Just asking." Elliot looked around. It was almost like he was sniffing the air. "Skye, do you feel that?"

"Feel what? Elliot, you're not making any sense."

"Right, never mind." Something tugged at his eyes, is what he called the feeling- something at the corner of his vision that he could never quite catch. "Wait. There." He pointed it out.

"There's nothing there, Elliot, snap out of it."

"No, there's something there. I see it. Come on. If we're quick about it, we won't get caught."

"Not that again..."

"Just trust me." Elliot closed his eyes, and ran towards what appeared to be another piece of the canyon wall, covered by boulders.

And then he went through the boulders, as if they weren't there. Elliot stuck his head back out, waving the other two over. Joseph looked to Skye, who nodded, and got ready for a sprint. "Quick... and while they're at the edges... _now_-" And Skye ran for it.

Joseph looked at his prospects at the moment. "Damn." He laid down some suppressing fire with the marker before making his run, which kept the two zombies at bay. "I need more lead shot..."

It was a tunnel, carved not by explosives or axes, nor even natural leaching of water, but a slow, steady hand, which had smoothed it. If someone had decided to make a piece of art out of a tunnel's very structure, they couldn't have done much better than this tunnel right here. The faint ticking over of a ventilation mechanism of some sort caused a pleasantly cool breeze after the hot sun outside.

Elliot should have expected guards, really he should have. In fact, he _had_ expected guards, just not of the kind that now presented themselves. "Roaches. Lovely."

To be more specific, they were _giant, army-booted_ roaches. Of course, they were only giant by roach standards, and so only came up to Elliot's waist.

Still, they didn't look friendly. Strike that- they definitely weren't friendly, and moved in. Elliot lashed out- he was surrounded and in the melee and with twelve- no, eleven, he'd struck one- arms to contend with, he was having a hard enough time not getting hit. He felt a burst of air, his jacket ruffled uncomfortably. A shot rang out- one of the Roaches' heads was missing. "Dammit, Joseph!"

"What?"

Whatever it was, Elliot didn't have time to say, the roaches were on him again. His staff shone brilliantly at both ends- and the roaches went flying. One into the ground, skidding as he went. The other bounced wickedly off the ceiling and back into the ground. Neither got back up again.

Elliot shook off some of the gunk a roach arm leaves behind, and then went on down the tunnel. "Ugh. Roach guts."

"Wait, wait, _hold on just one second my friend_," Joseph said, padding up behind him. "What was _that_? All of a sudden you're this awesome fighter?"

"Don't patronize me, Joseph," Elliot said. "And next time we come through here, _don't shoot to kill_." Daylight...

The world resolved itself into the beginnings of a box canyon, which made a sharp curve a short ways up. Carved into the canyon wall was a small channel that came alongside it and retreated into the rock. Nothing around. Elliot shrugged and walked to the bend and stopped. "Interesting."

Joseph and Skye only nodded.

The place was a rather large village of houses that were all the same in size and shape- they were somewhat largish cylinders, about six to eight feet high, with doors about half that size, though a little wider than a normal door. Each roof was conical- and they all had a single red ribbon tied to the top of them, fluttering in the breeze.

"Kay-o! BOING!" the sound was very much like a young child, and the giggling reinforced this notion. Elliot looked down.

What he saw was definitely not only what had made these houses, but was also certainly not a young child.

It was pretty much all face- it had a large protruding nose, and some fine whiskers, and on top of its head, it wore a red ribbon similar to the ones on the houses. Elliot kneeled down to get a look at it. It was about half his size, but its eyes were black, and it waddled around on little legs. How it- or others like it- had built these houses, Elliot didn't know, but he was sure it had.

"Hello there..." Elliot said, a little nervously.

"Hello! This place, it is Saturn Valley. Here, all are Mister Saturn. BOING!" And then it giggled again.

"So your name is Mr. Saturn?" Elliot asked.

"Not Mister Saturn. All Mister Saturn are Mister Saturn."

Elliot shrugged and stood up. "Well, that was as clear as mud. Let's ask around."

"I don't think you'll get much here, Elliot," Skye said.

"Well, there's nowhere else nearby, and we're under the eye of the storm still, so maybe there's a connection between this and Threed and the storm and whatever's in the falls." He walked off towards a small pond in the center of the village.

"All that?" Joseph asked, skeptical.

Elliot nodded, then looked around again. "No... That's definite."

"How so?"

"There are too many deserted houses."

"Well, it is during normal business hours..."

"I didn't say _vacant_, I said _deserted._" Elliot shook his head. "Look around. The windows aren't boarded up, but you can see the dust, the disrepair. Something about this stinks. Come on, let's see if we can find someone else."

It wasn't long before they heard another Saturn crying in a small grove near the pond. "Skye, I'm no good with kids..."

"I understand, Elliot." Skye went up to talk with the thing. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Once, we were many, many. Now, now we are less, less. The slime man, he come to take us all away..."

"Is there something we can do?"

"Less, less... So many less..." And then it began to bawl again.

Skye shook her head and walked back to the others. "Looks like he hasn't slept in days, the poor thing. Wish I could do something about that, but..."

Something _clicked_. "You can't... but maybe I can." Elliot walked up, slowly, and looked into the Saturn's eyes. He touched its forehead. "_Sleep_."

The Saturn sat down heavily. "When you awaken, you will be well-rested, and won't weep for your lost comrades any more." Elliot snapped his fingers, and stood up. "Not something I'd like to repeat, kids."

Skye nodded. "So, what now?"

"Now we take those ladders, see if we can't find some more Saturns."

"Why are you so concerned with them, Elliot?" Joseph asked.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm too nice for my own good. Wouldn't be the first time. Maybe because I suspect Lord Lardbutt is at the bottom of this. Maybe because... Well, have you ever seen someone in pain and wished you could do something, anything for them? Now take that feeling, and multiply it by this entire place. Can't you feel it? The whole town, crying out in pain like that little guy back there?" He turned, slowly, to face Joseph, his face absolutely impassive. "I can't put a whole town to sleep. I can't make a whole town forget its pain. But maybe I can put a stop to whatever's happened to them. Come on, there are still the small caves in the canyon wall to check out."

Joseph stopped Skye. "Is he always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like _that_. That whole thing, Skye! Here he just came off as this... this scared little boy and then he starts reaching out and helping everyone he can and it _just doesn't make sense._"

"What doesn't make sense? Elliot's good people. He goes out of his way to help others, believe me. If that weren't the case, we wouldn't even be here."

"Explain."

"Explain _what?_" Skye shrugged. "That _is_ the explanation. He helps people. It's what he does, though he doesn't like to admit it."

"That's not an explanation."

"What's to explain? Do you _know_ how much thought he's clearly put in to the ethical use of power?"

"To whose ends?" Joseph gestured into space. "I think you're pinning a lot of hope on someone who doesn't deserve it."

"And I think you're wrong."

Joseph smiled. "Do I detect admiration?"

Skye sighed. "Come on, we need to catch up."

"Hey! Don't change the subject!" Joseph shouted after Skye.

"What were you two talking about?"

"Nothing of importance," Skye said. "Are there others?"

"Yeah, they're all up there. Oh, and here-" He tossed her a pair of steel arm braces. "Being able to block things is good. Not breaking your arm while doing it is even better." Skye took them, put them on.

"You too, Joseph," Elliot said, tossing him a pair of the same. "Though I don't expect you to close, it's worth it just in case."

"May I ask why you're doing this for us?"

"Dreams don't give you time to prepare. I should know. So I may as well help prepare you." Elliot shrugged. "Come on, I find it hard to talk to these things."

Up the ladder they went. And there they saw three more Saturns. From what Skye could collect, the Big Slime's name was Master Belch. He'd taken some of the Saturns with him. Some, nothing- by Elliot's estimate, three-quarters of the town had been taken into Belch's factory- and had yet to return, save one or two escapees.

They had also heard something interesting indeed from the first escapee they came across.

"Three minutes wait, boing, yes, boing, three minutes to get in. Silent, quiet, so hard to do..." it was rocking back and forth as it said this. Elliot stepped forward a little, but it said, "Please, no dream. Dreams so bad now that I, Mr. Saturn, want them do not."

Elliot nodded. "Okay. But we can't find the factory."

"Behind waterfall. So scary... Don't want to go behind waterfall..."

"You won't have to... None of you will have to," Elliot said. "Not _ever_. Not if I can prevent it."

And they looked up at Elliot with something that approximated respect. And Elliot just looked back at them, and turned around, and said "Let's go."

"But it's already mid-afternoon-" Joseph started to object.

"Then we'll go through it quick. Before I forget-" Elliot tossed Skye a perfectly fitted, bright red, but above all, _metal_ _reinforced_ beret. "To replace the one you forgot back at the log cabin."

Skye just blinked at him as he left, whistling a tuneless ditty to himself.

Coming out of the Valley was a lot easier than getting in, mostly because the roaches hadn't fully healed yet- in fact, they were still lying unconscious or in one case, dead.

They hugged the cliff wall, avoiding the fields until the roar of the waterfall was very clear and the waterfall itself was right in front of them. Elliot called a halt, held up his fingers in a sign of victory, and posed. There was a click, and some rather loud obscenities.

"What was that all about?" Joseph said.

"Damn Paparazzi!" Skye shouted.

"What she said. I make it a hobby of mine to annoy them."

Now that they were close to the falls, it was easy to see the overhang that would allow them access. Placing each step carefully, they entered the cave that was below the underhang.

"Oh, there's _nothing_ near Grapefruit Falls," Elliot said. "Just a village the size of _Monaco_ and a zombie farm, that's all." He looked up at where some cave might once have been, that was now sealed by a large door. "Oh, and some mechanized facility, too. Yeah, just a _whole lotta nothin' out here_!"

A small shutter popped open. "Say the password!"

Elliot signaled the other two to be quiet. Joseph opened his mouth, but Skye covered it with her hand. He was just about to bite when she removed it, signaling once again for Joseph to keep quiet. He looked at them, completely confused.

Elliot signaled. _Four words._ Joseph nodded.

_Fourth word._ Elliot again signaled Joseph to be quiet.

Joseph got out a pencil and a piece of paper. _Silence?_

Elliot nodded. _Second word. Eight letters. Two parts. Second part._ _Sounds like._ Elliot made a shadow puppet of an eagle.

_Sounds like eagle?_ Joseph wrote. Elliot shook his head. _Sounds like bird. _Elliot nodded.

_Burn? Curd? Word?_ Elliot pointed to the third one and nodded.

Joseph filled in the last four letters. The message so far was " word Silence."

_Third word. Sounds like_. Elliot wiggled his fingers and raised them. Skye had to stifle a laugh.

_Sounds like soda? _Elliot shook his head violently. _Sounds like octopus? Like Cthulhu? Like squid? _Quick on the uptake, Elliot quickly tapped 'squid', but held up two fingers. _Squids?_ Elliot nodded. _OK, sounds like squids._ Elliot nodded again._ Lids? Bids? Is?_ Elliot pointed at the last word and tapped his nose.

_Second word. First part._ Elliot backed up, and threw an imaginary ball. _Baseball?_ Elliot shook his head. _Cricket? Bowler? Ball of some kind? Hacky sack? _Elliot once again told Joseph he was going off into the weeds, and tried to think again. He placed an imaginary ball and gave it a soft kick. _Football? No, not ball- soccer? Shoot? _Elliot rubbed his forehead in frustration.

_Sounds like. _He put his hands on the ground, palm up, and folded them over. _What the heck is that? _Elliot scrunched up his face, then stopped himself, and made a hand signal for a bang of some kind. _Sounds like boom? An explosion? Some sort of blast? _He pointed to the last. _Dynamite? Grenade? _Elliot shook his head and pointed to the word again. _Sounds like blast. word, sounds like blast- password?_

Elliot nodded, gratefully. " Password is Silence." Light dawned on Joseph. He nodded quickly and tossed the paper into the falls.

"...You may enter."

The doors hissed open, and the stench of Fly Honey filled the air. "Ach! Well, no doubt about it," Elliot said, "This is the right place."

"Murphy's Trench Foot, that's _foul!_"

Elliot blinked. "Isn't that supposed to be 'Murphy's Ghost'?"

"That's because _Skye_ said it, not me," Joseph explained.

"I _knew_ that, your voice isn't _that _girly. Now then, final checklist. Are we locked?"

Joseph checked over his marker one last time. "Locked."

"Are we loaded?"

"Plenty of knives here."

"And the Saturns must be over some sort of battlefield or something..."

"Well then," Elliot said, slipping on his shades, "Let's rock and roll."

They stepped into the darkness. The first thing that resolved itself was something similar to the thing back at the catacombs... but it had a slightly different look. Elliot leaned on his staff.

"Well, are you the ones who are delivering the Fly Honey to Master Belch?"

"Uh, yeah, we've got that," Elliot said.

"Well, hurry up! You're already late! Don't make him mad!"

Elliot blinked and got a better look at his surroundings as the door closed. It was a large cave, covered in metal and with columns and pipes going everywhere. Despite the pleasantly cool exterior of the waterfall, this place was muggy. Elliot was already starting to sweat. But more importantly, he was on the top catwalk, with only a flimsy railing for guidance.

Then the thing resolved itself further, and Elliot nodded to himself, and then barely squeezed past the slimy thing. "And _be careful with it!_ The Foppies are a little active today, so they might break it."

"Foppies...?" Elliot muttered, walking backwards to look at the thing as he went-

He went over, tripping over a small round thing that had gotten in his way. He sat up and rubbed his head. "Ow..." Elliot shifted on to his feet, only to slip on the same round thing, which went skidding into a wall.

Skye smirked. "Way to wear sunglasses indoors, dumbass."

"Okay, that's just about enough of that- crap!" Elliot fell back on his rump and another one of the round things flew right into Skye's hands.

"And just what have I been tripping over?" He said, looking at the thing. It was round, and red, and vaguely shiny. The overall impression it gave was of a large rubber ball, stuck together with other rubber balls and then inflated and given the Breath Of Life.

Another was now biting on his arm. He got up, sort of flailing a bit. "Ah! No! Bad... Whatever you are! Don't touch the jacket!" Finally Elliot ripped it off and threw it over the railing. "I suppose that's a Foppy, then."

"Seeing as how he's trying to bite me with teeth he's barely got, I'd say, yeah, this is a Foppy, all right. But maybe I'd better hold onto it."

With one swipe of his staff, the Foppy went flying, landing with a sharp _ronk, ronk, ronk_. "You know, if they weren't trying to kill me by gnawing through my shoes, I'd say they're kind of cute," Elliot noted, dusting himself off, then teeing off on the one attached to the aforementioned shoe. "OW! Correction- if they weren't _biting through_ my shoes, they'd be cute. Ow. Seriously. Ow. Take a note- when we go shopping, I need new shoes. Ow."

"So now we have feral balloons?" Joseph asked, taking aim. "Well, there's one for the books."

Elliot smacked another one into lower-Earth orbit. "Joseph, shut up and start shooting."

"So now you're all gung-ho?"

"They're _bouncy_. It'll take a lot more than your little pea-shooter to kill them. FORE!" This one went over the railing. Elliot put a finger to his ear. After a couple of seconds, Elliot heard the faint sound of athletic ball hitting pavement. "Tch. Sliced again."

Skye kicked one in the same direction. "How many of these things _are _there, anyway?"

"Seeing as they're foreign and inedible?" Joseph looked over the rail. Sure enough, there was a small pond of red that seemed to be moving below. "Plenty."

Skye rolled her eyes. "Wonderful."

Elliot shrugged. "It happens. Look at dandelions, or starling- OW." Elliot had just put weight on his left foot again. He took off the Consie. Just as he suspected, he was bleeding. Copiously. "Well, crap." He healed himself. "Anyone else get bit?"

They shook their heads no. "Of course not. Well, let's see if we can get down from here."

"Why? Master Belch could be here," Joseph noted.

"Would _you_ trust slaves out of your sight? Or overseers like these?" Elliot spotted a ladder. "Not that I would mind an elevator."

"Indeed." Joseph got out a roll of duct tape.

"Uh, no. You are _not_ duct-taping my shoe."

"You'd rather go through here shoeless?"

"And why not?"

"Three words, Elliot: Shoot the Glass."

"Oh, so now you're a Die Hard?"

"Please," Joseph said, rolling his eyes and snatching the shoe. "You're the one who seems to think he's Unbreakable."

"The Jackal finally shows his spots, eh?" Elliot shrugged.

"Who do you think you are, The Last Boy Scout?"

"Best watch what you say, you're in Striking Distance!"

"Ooh, look who's having Mortal Thoughts."

"Look Who's Talking."

Skye had long since clenched her teeth. "OK, _shut up_!"

Joseph paused for a second. "... Twelve Monkeys-"

"_I said shut up!_"

"Don't get so worked up, Skye. It's not like we're bringing about Armagedd-"

"Okay, now you're just doing it to annoy me. I'm nobody's fool."

Both Elliot and Joseph smirked and stared at Skye.

"...What?"

They just kept staring.

"No, seriously, what is it?"

Elliot ventured, "Oh, nothing, just that once we'd started, I kind of figured we'd better go the Whole Nine-"

"Don't. Even. _Think about it_."

"Fine, fine..." Elliot put his Consies back on. "Okay, new question. How do we deal with the shoe-munchers below us?"

"I dunno. Float?" Skye shrugged.

"On _what?_"

"Well, the Foppies themselves would be favorite, but that's not going to happen."

"Again, what are we going to use as a raft?"

"I don't know... Something useful, I suppose."

"Some sort of plastic shield?"

"Do you have one, Elliot?"

"Well, no. Hmmm... I suppose I could..." Elliot got an evil grin. "This might hurt, so, uh... Don't just drop after me." With that, Elliot vaulted over the railing, which broke. Quickly he raised his staff, thought of _that peace to tortured souls bring-_

Not only did his ascent slow, the pond of Foppies had now become a scattered shower of unconscious Foppy. Elliot shrugged; he didn't particularly care. "It's clear!" He called up to the catwalk.

The other two were a little smarter and climbed down the handy ladder. "Are you _sure_ you don't have a death wish, Elliot?" Joseph asked.

"Well, yeah, I can think of a couple of easier ways to kill me than jumping off cliffs."

"That wasn't my question."

"Yes, I'm sure, now come on." Elliot shook his head.

"Tired?"

Elliot shook his head again. "Nah, I'm fine, let's get through this."

Joseph sighed. "Fine, but I'm not picking you up if you get KO'd."

"Whatever, just come on." Elliot placed his staff as he went.

Joseph and Skye looked at each other, then back at Elliot.

Elliot looked back over his shoulder. "Well, are you two coming along?"

"Elliot, let's find some cover and break."

"What's the point? Any rest we could get here would be more trouble than it's worth..."

"Door to your left, Elliot," Skye said shortly.

"Hm?" Elliot opened the door to an amazing amount of nothing. The door shut behind them, and they sat. Somehow, even in this mechanical monstrosity, there was a small butterfly. Elliot smiled. "How incongruous, little fella..." Elliot leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's roll."

"No food?"

"No time to digest it, Joseph. People could be, you know, dying. Besides, we'll have plenty of time to sit and eat-"

"Elliot. Sit. Down. And. Eat."

"But-"

"SIT!"

Elliot sat. "Okay, what's for lunch then, smart man?" Elliot caught a small boxed lunch. "Hm?"

"A picnic lunch. You eat it."

"Tch. All right, all right, no need to be shirty..." About a quarter of an hour later, they sneaked out of the room again, and made their way towards...

The factory floor.

Before them was quite a sight. Conveyor after conveyor after conveyor of what appeared to be Saturns, chained to their posts, with these slimes looking after them, making sure they worked. It was hard to tell how the Saturns were doing the things necessary to run the factory, until one looked almost... dizzy.

A conveyor close by showed exactly what the Saturns were producing, and why they all looked so grim.

Every jar was off that horrible-smelling Fly Honey. To a Saturn, it must have been a terrible stench.

"My gods," Elliot said. "They're _psychic._ Every single one. And... This..." Elliot shook his head. "If I didn't know it wouldn't help them, I'd rip this whole place to bits, right now."

"I know, Elliot," Skye reached out to pat his shoulder.

Elliot grabbed her wrist. "Don't touch me. We're lancing this boil _now_." He strode off towards the supervisor's office, now clearly labeled.

"Hey! Are you delivering the special edition Fly Honey Deluxe to Master Belch?"

"Why, yes, yes I am."

"Then say the password, you nincompoop."

Silence.

"Well? What are you waiting for, you klutz?"

Elliot's grip on his staff only tightened.

"... This silence is suspicious. I don't think you're here to deliver to Master Belch."

"Okay, cover's blown!" Elliot said. Joseph drew his gun, Skye drew her knives. Elliot grinned. "_Separate_."

"N...No..." It was over in seconds. Rolling his neck, Elliot walked into the supervisor's control room.

Master Belch... was not quite what he expected. "Oi, where's Lardbutt?"

"Ah, yes..." It bubbled noxiously. "You must be Ness. And his ragtag band of heroes, no doubt." For what it resembles was nothing more than a gigantic pile of puke, lumped together and given a mouth with fangs and eyes to see and a terrible intelligence behind it all.

"I'm not a hero."

"You don't get to define that, boy."

"I'll say it again, where's Pokey?"

"Now, if I knew where he was, why, he'd probably be here, now wouldn't he?" Master Belch grinned, and let out a monstrous belch- the kind that you might think are amplified from the gut. Elliot suspected that was its way of laughing. It suited, anyway. "But, you know, I think I've handled things competently for Lord Giygas. And, more importantly, I will nip this little insurrection in the bud. Maybe I'll get something better than even you will suspect. No matter."

At this point, it flattened itself out. "Well, fight me, if you wish!" It ejected slime at them.

"Crap!" Elliot ducked under most of the wave, but had a hard time moving. "Joseph! The Honey!"

"Hm? Joseph got the hint, dropped his pack, and took out the jar.

Belch abruptly dropped Skye. "Hm?" It sniffed. Sniff Sniff Sniff. "Is... that... Fly Honey?"

Before Joseph could set it down, master Belch snatched it out of his hands with terrible force, impatiently trying to tear at the indestructible lid.

The three looked at each other, and wailed on Master Belch, who seemed too concerned with the jar of Fly Honey to care about his injuries. "Soo... Tasty... Must have it!"

By the time Elliot smashed into its eye cortexes, it was far too late.

Master Belch was now all over the place. Literally.

"Well, that's over with," Elliot nodded. "He's amorphous, so it's unlikely we've actually killed him. Joseph, if you would release the Saturns-"

"Way ahead of you, Elliot." There was a buzz, and a voice came over the intercom. The same voice as before.

"Work Phase is now over. Go away."

"Heh..." Something bubbled. It was Belch. "You think you've won...?" It belched terribly again. "You haven't even touched the tip of the iceberg... The Mani Mani has made its way to Fourside, even as we speak..." It belched again. "And as for me... I cannot die... And do not feel pain... You can no more defeat me than you can my master..." And with a final, terrible, loud belch, the factory started to shut itself down, and the noises of an impending Saturn stampede harkened down the halls.

For the second time that day, Elliot was carried on a wave of people to a destination not of his own choosing. "DAMMIT!"

"Eh, it gets us out, right?" Skye said.

"I have to agree with her here, Elliot. You need to chillax."

Back at the factory, Master Belch looked up at his superior. "I... Apologize. I lost to that _boy_ and my gluttony..."

"No worries, everything is still within parameters. Nevertheless, you did fail milord Giygas. I should disintegrate you where you stand..." Pokey raised a hand, which glowed blue for a brief moment, before snuffing itself. "But... Milord is merciful. He thinks you'll be useful... elsewhere. In fact, so lucky for you, it's on my way." He turned to a few other figures. "Get the Shop Vac."

"Yes, Mr. Vice President."

END- Slide Zone


	19. Hot Springs, Cooling Tempers

**Chapter 19: Hot Springs, Cooling Tempers**

The end of the tunnel was only a patch of lighter shadow. The sun had long since set, and the faint crackle of controlled flame was soon drowned by the stomp stomp of hundreds of little feet.

Jubilant Saturns carried them down the regularly carved tunnel into the great wall of Saturn Valley, there to dump them near a hot spring that stank of minerals and sulphur, and lit by inefficient wood and pitch torches.

And at that, it _still_ smelled better than Fly Honey.

"Wash yourselves here, ZOOM!" The wave of Saturns said at once. "Get slime gunk and stink away!" With that, they almost dispersed, but seemed to wait for something, looking at Elliot and company expectantly.

"Uh..." Elliot said. The water looked... Pink. That was generally not a good thing.

"Clean! Clean! Clean again!" One of the Saturns encouraged. "Feels nice!"

Elliot shrugged, and took off his Consies. "When in Rome..."

"This not Rome, silly! This Saturn Valley."

Elliot's jacket, backpack and staff came next. "Hey, whoa," Skye said, "are you expecting to go in there-"

Elliot shrugged, removed his shirt and jeans, and hopped in, still in his boxers. Once cozied against a rock, he removed his miner's helmet, which floated in the spring. He let off a relieved sigh.

Joseph looked at Skye, sort of nodded, and set off removing his own overclothes quickly.

Skye sighed, shrugged, and took off the sweater, pants, and the underlying red short-sleeved blouse. She kept her beret on, but slid into the spring, as far apart from Elliot and Joseph as she could manage.

The miner's helmet floated by her, and she almost watched it go, before pushing it back towards Elliot.

Almost at once, the Saturns cheered and started jumping into the springs themselves.

Elliot couldn't help laughing at the things. They were almost like kids... Until they looked into your eyes, and you saw that they were very, very tired, even as they were smiling, and laughing, and playing among each other. It was just as much a wake, Elliot realized, as a party.

Elliot started to wash himself, until he saw that the Saturns were washing each other- or at least helping, by splashing another with a large wave from their nose. Elliot didn't have a large snoz, but he did have arms. He grinned-

But Joseph got him first with a blast right to the face. "Ackpth! Right, I'll do you for that!" FWOSH! Joseph was deluged by Elliot's reprisal, and by the time he had recovered, Elliot was gone.

"Huh?"

Elliot sat and washed himself off silently. Sure, he managed to save this community, but Threed and the other states were in a pretty hopeless position- there wasn't wind enough to blow away all the cloud cover, not in early summer.

He leaned back against the rock. "What am I gonna do now...?"

A small child- no, this was another Saturn- spoke up. "Go to the well! The Well! Always good for the thinking, BOING!"

With that, it cannonballed into the hot springs at point blank range and splashed to the surface. "But go in morning. Tired! ZOOM!" It giggled at Elliot, and then paddled off to join the others.

"Uh... Right..." What time _was_ it anyway? The nearest clock was on Apple Kid's cell phone, so he didn't know. Not that it mattered. He looked at the sky, seeing stars that he'd never seen before. So many... and so impossibly bright that he wondered how the city lights blinded them.

Elliot smiled again, and the old miner's helmet went floating by. He caught it, and lightly deposited it over his face, just letting his troubles unkink with his tired muscles.

There was a knock on his helmet. "Adrenaline crash?" Skye? Elliot lifted his helmet.

"Yeah, I suppose. But damn if this spring isn't kind to me. Any particular reason you felt it necessary to wake me up?"

"Nah, just that it would suck if our fearless leader suddenly drowned in the hot springs." She shrugged, and sat across from him. Another Saturn paddled by.

Elliot considered this. "Unlikely." Elliot shifted his helmet back over his head.

"As you like, but don't blame me when you come out lightly boiled."

"Again, unlikely."

"We're going to bed now."

"Thank you, mother."

"Snert."

"Twip."

"Oi, Skye, you going to head for bed, or what?" Joseph's voice shouted in the distance.

"Yeah, yeah, hold your horses..." Elliot heard her climbing out of the water.

He just kept resting there, but eventually the hot water became uncomfortable rather than relaxing, the rocks hard rather than a light seat. Elliot rose, and lifted the helmet. By the moon, it was almost midnight. One lone Saturn looked over him. "Kay-o?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Elliot replied, slowly lifting himself out of the springs. He was completely clean- there was no gunk, and he only smelled of fresh sweat and the sulphur. It was better than his last stink, at any rate. "Hey, do you have a towel or something?"

"Towel? What is towel?"

"A cloth to dry off."

"Oh, _that_." It tossed him a terrycloth robe. "Here! Made special for peoples! ZOOOM!"

He wrapped himself in his robe, and slung his boxers over his shoulder, rummaging through is backpack for some briefs. "Now, where can I get some sleep around here?"

There is _nothing_ quite as bad as a Saturn with a head cold. This is _especially_ true when you get woken up by several pounds of stuffed nose being squishy at the small of your back. While, certainly, there are worse ways to wake up, it has an uncertain horror that is much noted by connoisseurs.

Elliot cracked open an eye, uncertainly. He remembered arriving after midnight to an empty house on the bottom tier.

And then he heard the _sniff_. It was a sniff of epic proportions, filled with loud horking and very wet indeed.

He scrambled out of the bed, only to discover that it wasn't actually a bed, it was a bedpad put out across the floor. He stumbled and fell over.

"Yay!" The Saturn exclaimed, stuffily. It sniffed again, loudly and for an extended period.

When Elliot could hear himself think again, he asked the Saturn what was going on.

"Other peoples here! Boing going for to show you a new place! The Well is there for you to be going! ZOOM!"

"What do you mean?"

"Dreamerness! Dreamerness takes the well, finds another light! BOING!"

"Wait," Elliot said, letting that filter through his sleep-addled brain. "Are you telling me that's another Sanctuary?"

The Saturn looked confused. "Well? Sanctuary is not Well. Well is Well. Well is World Piece. Piece of Mother. Bind yourself to Mother, the Well can do."

Elliot grabbed his helmet and jammed it on his head. "Why didn't you say so in the first place? _Hot damn!_"

A hurried five minutes later, Elliot was out in the cold dawn air, looking at Skye and Joseph. "You heard the news?"

"What news?" Joseph said.

"This Well the Saturns keep talking about- it's a Sanctuary!"

"What the blue blazes is a Sanctuary?"

"Vaguely worrying, Joseph, but nothing too bad," Skye said.

"Listen, I can't explain it all myself, but these Sanctuary thingies, they're essential to this whole mission. I was about to pass one up. Let's move out!" Elliot looked around. "Wait, where's our stuff?"

Skye sighed. "It's back at the spring, remember?"

"Vaguely," Elliot said, waving off Skye's annoyance. "And in that case, what are we still doing down here? Er, what am _I_ still doing here, since, you know, neither of you need to come along for this."

"Good one, Scoob."

Elliot blinked. "Your funeral, Shaggy." Elliot walked away. "Joseph? Follow me in or don't, it's your choice."

"Leaving you two alone in a cave?" Joseph rolled his eyes. "_Please_, you'd never get anything done."

Elliot turned back, a deadpan expression on his face. "Joseph?"

"Yeah?"

"_Drop it_."

About ten minutes later, Elliot collected his stuff from the Saturn nearby, and told he others he'd be waiting in the cave.

Joseph was busy doing maintenance on his weapon, so Skye decided to look around for a bit.

A Saturn poked her in the calf. "Coffee to drink! Say yes to me, say no to me?"

"Will it take long? We're preparing for the Well."

"Not long."

Skye nodded. "Okay."

With that sip, the Saturn and Skye looked into each other's eyes and knew.

"Seer."

"Oracle."

"You're early."

"So I've noticed."

"That's good, actually. You'll have time to reverse some of the damage Giygas is already doing in the establishment of his beachhead. In fact... For a while, I thought I would have to take a pretty heavy hit until you showed up."

Skye raised an eyebrow. "That's true, isn't it? There are more of them than I recall in my visions."

"Are you aware of the point of deviation?"

Skye shook her head. "I can't see anything different in the past."

"Hm," the Saturn said, nodding. "That is... Vexing. Your visions are changing?"

"Ever since he dropped me off, but I'm running off a much shorter time. Whatever caused the deviation is playing _merry hell_ with my sight, but doesn't seem to change the actual events until scant moments before."

"I heard you had combat prescience...?"

Skye shook her head. "Gone. Whatever's happening, it's a _huge_ deviation, more than a five-day delta would indicate. I can feel it. And even the five would throw off my prescience in combat- which is very imprecise as it is."

"Of course. What of the... Final outcome?"

"I've never seen it. The farthest visions I have are... Well, you're the Oracle, you should know."

"I know now, at least. It's comforting to know that I'm not the only one being dicey at the moment... And _your_ fate...?"

Skye shrugged. "The same as always. Joseph's about ready. I should go."

"You don't have to do this. You could stay here and help."

"No. I'm sorry, and thank you for the offer, but unintended consequences..."

The Saturn nodded. "Very well, Skye. I respect your decision."

Skye followed Joseph into the tunnel and out of earshot.

"May Mother have mercy on your souls..."

END- Chapter 19


	20. Mother's Mission

**Chapter 20: Mother's Mission**

Elliot looked at Skye. "Have fun with the Saturn?"

"More like business," Skye replied. "Weren't you going in alone?"

"Just 'cause I want to doesn't mean I'm gonna leave others behind. Now keep up. I've already had to deal with one nasty little thing already."

It was another of the tunnels that the Saturns had carved- a straight line, from A to B. A few of the fungi started to move, but were quickly put down by Joseph's sniping. "That's it?"

Elliot shook his head. "They aren't even the worst." And then, they stepped into light-

It was a box canyon, similar to the one that had led to the gentle slopes of Saturn Valley. This one, however, seemed to be more of an meandering extension of the tunnel as opposed to an actual canyon, and one that opened to the air.

The sunlight in the midmorning was harsher, and yet also duller. The cloud was dissipating, or moving on... But it was also brown. Elliot paused as light dawned.

"Oi. Are we moving or not?"

Elliot shook himself, and laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Keep a watch... they may be-"

The tall grass ahead of them suddenly bristled with what appeared to be spears... then resolved themselves into ranseurs. More waist-high guards appeared, but these were significantly more... plantlike.

They were also significantly more able than their roach counterparts. They fell into line, ranseurs firmly pointed at Elliot.

Elliot grinned. "Forming square." He adjusted his grip to one side of his staff, hefting it on his shoulder like a bat. "Poor bloody infantry."

"Mow them down?"

"Try to disarm them; we're here to claim the Sanctuary, not destroy it."

Joseph started firing once the ranseur-wielding plants began their advance, Skye laid down suppressing attacks with her knives, and Elliot swept them, one at a time, to one side or another, where they quickly fell unconscious.

The ones in back retreated- _fell back_, actually- formed square again, but this time they surrounded themselves with globes of light... Elliot blinked. "That's new..."

Skye experimentally threw a knife; it flicked aside more than enough to be parried by the plant man. She clicked her tongue. "Shield."

"Clearly. So now what?"

Skye blinked. "Duh. I'm pyrokinetic, remember?"

Elliot shook his head no. "In a grassland. With woods nearby. No offense, but it'd be like dousing ourselves with gasoline and striking a match."

The planty pikemen advanced once again, charging forward. Joseph saw little choice, and started aiming to kill- if these plant-beings were human-like enough. They weren't, and the shields they had forced the shots aside into others in any case, but they were still slowed considerably.

Elliot worked cleanup, and got the first pick of the attacks that got through the hasty defense line. His jeans were now officially shot to hell. "Come on!" Elliot started advancing, ignoring or drawing the attacks away from the others while always leaving another opening for them to get through. He shoved aside a sprout to get at an opening into the cliffs.

It was a fairly large limestone depression, heading into an underground chasm- dry now that the river had changed directions. He sat down. Elliot finally noticed that he was bleeding, when his calf muscles sheared and tore further in response to him sitting down. "OW!"

"Elliot, you all right in there?" Joseph shouted.

"Yeah, I'm just bleeding with torn muscles because I felt like sitting here and shouting in pain!"

Heated conversation outside. "Hey, whenever you feel like getting around to following me, that'd be nice." Elliot worked on trying to repair his shredded calves.

They obliterated the mobile sprout in short order, helped Elliot to his feet. "Your legs are _totally_ toast," Skye noted.

Elliot looked at them. "You're not exactly a blossoming rose yourself."

"What do you mean? I'm fresh as a daisy!"

"You look more like a black-eyed Susan to me. Oh, well, it's time for me to make like a faith healer." He rubbed his hands together- his legs healed up, the muscles knitted. "You can put me down now."

They unceremoniously plopped him on the limestone. "Okay... Never tried this on a moving target other than myself before. Let me know how it turns out."

"Huhwhat?"

"Siddown! It's not like I can deal with your wounds while you're walking."

He was quick with Joseph's injuries. There was a moment of hesitation as he turned to Skye.

"Just get it over with and then keep your hands to yourself." Skye didn't make eye contact, deliberately shunting to the side.

Elliot nodded. "Life."

They collectively got up. "Onward?"

Elliot nodded. Onward they went.

Joseph looked from Elliot, to Skye, back to Elliot. He sighed. "Denial..."

"Stuff it, something's up ahead."

Joseph looked at the thing... The words in Winters rang in his head. "You guys deal with it, I'll wait here."

Skye grabbed Joseph's collar. "Come on."

There was a boulder in front of the light, Elliot started to shift it aside.

"HM?" The boulder said.

"Hey boulder! Mind moving your sorry butt down the bend so I can get through here?" Elliot asked.

"... You're not even supposed to be here."

"I get that a lot. Now are you going to stand aside, or is this going to get rough?"

"Seer, you have betrayed us? ... And the madboy. I see. So someone knows about the Apple..." The boulder unfolded, revealing two gigantic leaves and a multitude of smaller branches. "Nevertheless, you shall not pass."

"Okay, so this is going to get rough. Joseph, you got any fireworks left in that pack of yours?"

"No, but it won't matter."

"That's the spirit." Elliot twirled his staff. "We accept your challenge, _whelp_."

Two rounded eyes- almost like buds- looked down upon Elliot. "I'm ages older than you. Since time immemorial, Mother has granted me the power to protect this place."

"Good to heaOOF-" Elliot was cut off by a branch walloping him in the stomach.

Skye started to burn the thing alive, while Joseph concentrated on seeing exactly what the Sprout was made of.

"...It's a gigantic plant."

"Gee, I never would have guessed!" Elliot said, getting to his feet and healing himself, before almost disappearing into the fray.

Joseph shook his head, pumped a few shots into it. "Not the point!" Joseph took aim. "_Move!_"

Elliot ducked and Joseph fired several shots right into the stem, which ricocheted wildly. "Do you _mind?_"

"_Shut- up, Elliot!_"

"Get out of there!" And with no further warning, Skye threw two more knives into the kudzu.

Elliot rolled back, raised his staff.

The combined psychic force completely ripped the Sprout apart, sending the top half into the canyon, and leaving the bottom half to wither.

"Mother will never... accede... to you..." And with those last words, the plant died.

"What does _that_ mean?" Joseph asked.

"Frankly, I don't care," said a battered Elliot. "Come on, let's get the real party started." He pulled the Sound Stone, and stepped forward into the light.

It was, at first appearance, a fountain which spewed milk into the small edifice below it, which slowly spilled into a huge puddle.

Elliot took a sip, then spat it out. "Tastes like Mylanta."

"Milk of magnesia," Joseph said, smugly.

"Yeah, yeah, keep it to yourself." The Sound Stone started to resonate and glow, and Elliot saw-

_His mother, speaking aloud... "Be thoughtful, loyal, and strong, my child..."_

His arm was wrenched, his feet hit the ground, and he crumpled.

Joseph looked down at him. "No fair going airborne, flyboy."

"Thanks for the tip, Joseph." Elliot rubbed his shoulder. He was lucky, Joseph hadn't dislocated it, but it still hurt.

"So why do you always lift like that? And where did your bruises go?" Joseph looked right at Elliot, suspicious.

"I _don't know, _Joseph! This entire road trip is mostly a gigantic question mark, all right?" Elliot grabbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm learning just as fast as you are, so either buckle up and join the ride or go home!"

"I'm not interested in your _motive_, I'm interested in what's going on here! It doesn't obey the _laws of physics_; much less make any sort of sense! How am I supposed to swallow this?"

"_As best you can!_" Elliot threw a hand back. "You claim to be a scientist, revise your model!"

Joseph's mouth opened and shut in incoherence.

"Are you two going to get out of here, or just stand there like fish all day?" Skye finally asked.

Elliot looked from Joseph, to Skye, and back to Joseph. "I don't want to keep you if you aren't interested, Joseph," he finally said. "And if you really are interested in finding out, the only way is to follow me. Understand, madboy?"

"Understood, flyboy."

"Glad that's sorted out." Elliot extended his hand. Joseph shook it. "Now let's get out of here while we still have our sanity."

Joseph nodded, and Elliot pocketed the Sound Stone. "Back to the valley, then?" Skye asked.

Elliot nodded.

Once again, those loyal to the Sanctuary made way for them, the troops keeping the rest in line while they went. Elliot felt like he was on parade, and blushed, and shrank into himself.

"Buck up, Elliot," Joseph said, waving to the creatures. "It's not like they're deliberately doing it. Just keep moving." He smiled. "We've got a town to get back to."

Elliot nodded. "Yeah."

END- Mother's Mission


	21. No Rain

**Chapter 21- No Rain**

Skye came out of the cavern first. "Glad that's over. I'm off to talk to some of the other Saturns. Should be good for a laugh." She waved to the others and went off down the ladder into the town.

"I need ammo..." Was all Joseph said.

Elliot shrugged. He could soak in the hot springs again, but didn't feel particularly grimy.

It was this train of thought that a childlike voice interrupted. "Drink coffee? Say yes to me? Say no to me?"

Elliot looked down at the Saturn sitting on the stump. Next to it was a complex espresso machine, far more complex than anything Elliot thought a Saturn should be able to construct. It was already steaming. "What was that?"

"Drink coffee before you go? Say yes to me? Say no to me?"

No one else was there. "Sure, why not?" Elliot sat down, and the espresso was poured into a small demitasse cup. It was of an exquisite grind that he had never tasted before. He couldn't place the region.

"It's our own special blend. We make it from the mountains here, in unsealed greenhouses. The taste is... Unique. Like us." Elliot's head snapped back to the Saturn, whose eyes were glowing.

"Perhaps we should explain. Caffiene has a bit of a different effect on us than it does you humans. It's also known as 'the drink of Oracle'." The Saturn smiled. "We've been waiting a while for you, Ness."

"Who are you?" Elliot was certain that whoever this was, it _wasn't_ the Mr. Saturn he had just been talking to.

"Very keen sniffer, there, Ness, but you're not quite correct. Do you know... No, of course you don't, but you _are _familiar with Jung. Excellent."

Elliot looked perplexed. "No need to look shocked. They call us Oracle. Just like all of us are Mr. Saturn, we all have the ability to channel us."

"Us?"

"Well, yes. Consciously, All the Mr. Saturn are different. But the unconscious is totally collective. We're that unconscious."

Elliot shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around that idea. "W... _Whoa!_"

"Don't let it bother you too much. Like we said, we've been expecting you. And to get here, you've traveled very far from home.

"Do you remember how your journey began?" Oracle took another sip from its demitasse cup. "It was Pokey, the worst person in your neighborhood, who came knocking at the door that fateful night..." It smiled.

"On your way, you have walked, thought, and fought. Yet through all this, you have never lost your courage. You have grown stronger, though you have experienced the pain of battle many times."

Elliot nodded. "So I have. It was a long walk."

"Indeed, and you aren't even alone anymore in your adventure. Skye, who is stalwart, wise, and even pretty, joined you and is by your side."

"Oh, not you too..." Elliot sighed out.

"The truth is nothing personal." It would have shrugged if it could. "And don't forget Joseph. Though he is timid at being in your group, he came from a far away land to help you."

"What's your _point,_ Oracle?"

"Ness, as you're certainly aware, you're not a regular young man... You have an awesome destiny to fulfill."

"Again with the destiny. I'm destined for nothing."

Oracle smiled. "As you wish... But this much is not debatable- you have a journey to complete."

"True."

"The journey from this point will be long, and it will be more difficult than anything you have undergone to this point. Yet, we know you'll be all right."

"That's all well and good, but something tangible would be nice." Elliot shrugged.

Oracle smiled. "When good battles evil, Ness, which side do you believe wins? Do you have faith that good is triumphant?"

"Maybe." Elliot looked aside.

The look on Oracle's face could only be described as stern. "One thing you must _never _lose, Ness, is courage. If you believe in the goal you are striving for, you will be courageous. There are many difficult times ahead, but you must keep your sense of humor, work through the difficult situations and enjoy yourself."

"Tall order."

"Indeed."

"But... where do I go next?"

"Well, the Mani Mani is in Fourside, as is your favorite band. I'd suggest that when you finish this cup of coffee, your adventure will continue across that vast desert and into the big city of Fourside."

Elliot set down his empty cup and bowed. "Thank you, Oracle." He went down to join his comrades.

"Ness... Skye... Joe..." The Oracle nodded.

"We wish you luck..."

Back through the tunnel- the roar of the falls sounded in Elliot's ears, and then- double time- through the Catacombs back into Threed. And finally, daylight-

Wait, _daylight_?

Elliot only smiled and nodded. "I was right."

Joseph blinked as they came to the surface. "Huh, what? What happened to the cloud cover?"

"I think it classifies as the world's biggest smog episode- you might call it an ecological disaster," Elliot said, laughing. "Hot _damn, _I was right! It was clearing up back near the Milky Well."

"And the rest of the tri-state area?" Skye asked.

"It'll clear up soon enough now that Belch's factory is defunct?" Joseph added.

"Bingo."

A noise! They all drew their weapons at once, ready to take the budding ambush.

There are few things less pathetic in this world than the shocked surprise party. People expect to be ready to celebrate, to have fun, and maybe play a harmless joke on the surprised. And unless you're about to go a-viking, weapons are most definitely _not _involved. Especially not weapons pointed at the ones doing the surprising.

Somewhere, in the distance, someone who had not gotten the message blew merrily on a noisemaker. Even that sounded kind of _sad_, as if they had gotten the message halfway through and didn't have the heart to finish a proper blow.

Elliot winced as he leaned on his staff, almost at once very tired. He heard the others breathing sighs of relief and putting the weapons away. "Dammit people, we just got out of a combat zone, what did you expect?"

"We didn't realize... Any dead?"

"Nobody you'd know," Elliot sighed, looking down.

"Well, hey, why not-"

"They already had a wake." Elliot walked past the proposed revelers, leaning on the staff. "Is there a way to get to Fourside from here?"

"The bus routes are up again," one of them said. "But the next one to Fourside doesn't leave until tomorrow."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause I'm driving that bus, and _you _aren't leaving until we've given you three a proper sendoff!"

Elliot laughed silently. "All right, all right, _fine_, but before we do, could all of you look that way and smile?" Elliot held up two fingers, and a faint _click _was heard, followed by a curse. "Thank you."

Before anyone could puzzle it out, Joseph shouted "_Hey! Let's get this started!_"

A ragged cheer shuddered through the town and picked up in intensity.

"Joseph-"

"Save it, Elliot. These people need the party more than we do, can't you see that?"

Elliot only sighed in response.

"Besides," Skye chimed in, "When was the last time you had any fun?"

"Fun? What is this 'fun' you speak of?" Elliot deadpanned. "My dictionary does not have an entry for anything called 'fun'. I am a soulless automaton, built for war-"

"Knock it off, smartass!" Skye interrupted.

"Aw, I thought it was kind of cool, myself," Joseph said.

"I hear and obey," Elliot continued, and then moved in a lock step, making a buzzing noise with his mouth.

"Keep it up, Number Five, I got your short circuit right here."

"Frankly, I'm all partied out," Elliot shrugged. "What I really want is a shower with real soap and a ticket to Fourside."

"Fourside? Why Fourside?" Joseph asked.

"Runaway Five," Skye chimed in. "They're his favorite band."

Elliot paused, then nodded. "What she said."

"So that's it? I can leave?"

"Well, the Runaway Five are a kickass band," Elliot qualified. "And you're on vacation, right? Why not enjoy it?"

"Because my mom would have kittens."

"So?"

"She's RWMP."

"... Your mom's in the _Mounties_?"

"What's your point?" Joseph was busy temporarily dismantling his weapon.

"I dunno," Elliot shrugged. "I was expecting her to be a rocket scientist or something."

"Actually, my dad works in optics."

"Really? I'd always heard aerospace." Elliot pushed his sunglasses into his eyes.

Joseph looked over, opened his mouth, then shook his head and shrugged.

Elliot went over to the food table. It was the same meager fare as before, but it was no longer salted with desperation, flavored by doubt, and dusted with dense smoke belching from an inefficient factory. Elliot took a taste, and smiled.

This was the fruit of victory.

And then he looked at everyone else. Everyone else who had been forced to go through this ordeal, despite their efforts, and everything Elliot could have done.

The next day, early morning, the entire town showed up to see them off. It was about sixty or seventy now left of what might have once been six hundred. Elliot didn't look at the others as he packed up his things into the old Grey Hand bus. He looked at the town, shrugged his shoulders, and boarded amid cheers as he waved goodbye.

"What's up?" Joseph asked.

"Did we really do anything?" Elliot asked the others.

"Hm?" Skye asked.

"Did we really do anything? It's a simple question."

"What are you talking about, moron? Of _course _we did something," Skye replied.

Elliot shook his head. "They're not even a tenth of what they were... They may not survive the winter. We've left them poor, with damaged water, gas, no electricity... There's so much left to do that I'm starting to wonder if this is accomplishing anything."

Joseph shook his head. "Elliot, Skye's right, you're being a moron."

This snapped Elliot out of it for a moment, looking at Skye, then Joseph. "What?"

"You're being a moron- we did more than enough. Think about it." Skye looked ahead to the interstate. "We've freed the entire Four Corners area from a smog episode that probably damn near killed the lot. Threed survived. And towns survive. And you _saved an entire sentient race from extinction_."

"Yeah, but-"

Skye held up a hand, and put two fingers to her temple, eyes closed. "Wait! Wait a second, it's... Your future. You keep talking... and you get a concussion."

Elliot blinked. "That was a threat, wasn't it?"

Skye started moving her fingers around on her temple. "No, no, it was really a vision! Swirly unfocussedness and everything."

Elliot did not look convinced. "Then how do I get it?"

"It didn't disclose that information."

Joseph covered his mouth with his hands.

"Right. And I have a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you."

"No you don't."

"My point exactly."

"You doubt me, Hardin?" Skye looked like what some people imagine to be incredulous, but isn't. "You doubt my power?"

Joseph almost snorted.

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Are you _sure _you didn't whang your head on the way out of the catacombs?"

Skye rolled her eyes. "_Yes_. You sure _you_ didn't?"

Joseph shrugged. "Would it actually make a difference?"

"Come to think..." Skye looked at the ceiling.

"Okay, that's _just about enough_," Elliot said, finally smiling. "There has to be _something_ to do besides talk ourselves hoarse."

Joseph looked at the others. "Did you bring any books?"

Eliot shook his head. "I'd have read them by now. I'm pretty sure I have a chem textbook..."

"What level?"

"101."

Joseph waved it away. "What about you, Skye?"

"Any books I packed with me are with my duffel back in some tunnel in Threed," she replied.

"Cards?"

"On a _bus_?" Elliot asked. "Besides, what could we play?"

"Cribbage?"

"You got a board?"

"... Maybe, I didn't check much of what was in my backpack. You got a deck?"

"No."

Skye looked from one to the other. "Either of you play Psi: The Quickening?"

"Yeah," Elliot replied, "Back in the Umbra set... I don't think I have my deck anymore though, and I said _besides_ talking ourselves hoarse."

"Point. Rock Paper Sci-"

"NO!"

The driver looked back. "You know, I bet you could find something to sing together."

"How is that any different from talking ourselves hoarse?" Elliot asked.

"It'd sound better at least."

Elliot rolled his eyes. "When's the next town?"

"About two hours."

"Lovely. Can we make a stop there?"

"Sure thing, man."

Elliot nodded and turned back to the others. "Okay, so what do we do 'til then?"

"I don't know about you, Elliot, but I've been fighting the last four days." Skye stretched. "I'm going to relax while I can. In fact, that's probably why you went emo on us."

Elliot nodded. "Makes sen- wait, did you just call me emo?"

"In her defense, you were," Joseph pointed out.

"Whatever, I'm just gonna stare out the window now. Hand me a knife so I can-"

"_Thin ice,_" Skye snapped.

"Tch." Elliot grinned. "You're a good kid, Skye."

"Get some rest."

"Jawohl." Elliot laid back for a rest, and waited for the next wide spot in the road.


	22. Don't Dream It's Over

**Chapter 22- Don't Dream It's Over**

The two hour drive was without incident, and they all got out and stretched their legs.

The place was little more than a wide spot in the road, as Barstake had been; it didn't even have being on the Old Route 66. The place was really little more than a septic tank and an attachment to some impossibly deep aquifer. There were no plants, only dust.

Elliot entered the lone shop. The man behind the counter woke up as the bell rung. "What what? Is the pump on fire?"

Elliot simply shook his head and took a look around. Not much here. A stack of playing cards, some alcohol he was still too young to drink, some of the worst sodas in existence, and other odds, ends, and still more postcards. Somehow one stood out; it was yet another picture of Onett. He grabbed it, and kept looking. Pens, paper- he picked up a pad of quad- and then he heard the bell again.

Joseph strode in with purpose, picked up what looked like a world atlas, grabbed three different sets of dice, and put them into Elliot's hands. "Trust me." With that, Joseph walked right back to the bus.

Elliot shrugged and rapped on the table to wake up the man behind the counter. "Oi. All this stuff. Bag it."

"Hm? Sure you wouldn't like a Big Red?"

"You're kidding, right? That stuff's vile. Just ring this up."

"Fine, fine. Man, I'm never gonna shift that stuff..."

"Well, gee, maybe if it wasn't the most disgusting soft drink on the planet..." Elliot handed over enough cash to cover it, then walked back to the gas pumps, where the driver was busy trying to pay for gas.

"So what's with the dice, Joseph?"

"Just something I've played for a while, that's all. I'll show how to play on the way."

Elliot nodded. "All right. Yo! Driver! How long before we pack it back in?"

"Shouldn't be five minutes- I've almost got a full tank."

"Cool beans." Elliot climbed into the bus, slipped off his jacket. "Okay, so what's this all about, Joseph?"

"Well, the game's called Blisters..."

Once more, they were on the road. Elliot had taken the red pen and had drawn his route, from start until now. It was actually quite a tally, though not necessarily for one whole week. "Huh."

"Yeah, but that's not the important bit. The important bit is that that's our goal for right now."

"No, no, I get that, I just don't get why we're using our route."

"Convenience," Joseph noted.

"Don't follow."

"We can keep track of our mileage this way."

Elliot conceded the point. "Still, it's not going to be very useful if we keep a running total- we'll be getting there in a few turns."

"Possibly. That's the thing about Blisters- it's partly luck, but there's a bit of skill to it too-"

"No more than any other gambling game."

"Granted," Joseph pushed up his glasses, "But that skill is what separates finishing from losing."

Elliot shrugged. "Whatever you say, man." His head jerked to the front of the bus, as it started to slow down. "What... the..."

A long line of cars extended to the horizon. "Holy crap." He moved to wake Skye, who had been trying to sleep, emphasis on trying.

"Don't bother," she said, sitting up. "Let's just get moving while we can."

Elliot nodded. "Hey driver, you know what's going on?"

"You've got about as much clue as I do right now..."

Elliot sighed. "Okay, no dice. Any ideas, Skye? Personally, I think we should just wait an hour or two for this to clear up."

Skye shook her head. "We won't make good time, but we should start walking."

"What? Why?" Elliot looked at Skye.

"Think about it; they're dealing with a disaster already. Any help on this end is going to be scarce. And with most of the area crippled... You do the math."

"All right, but it'll take us longer to follow the road on foot."

"The road's useless anyway," Joseph noted.

"What?"

"There's no shelter here. We'd be better off making for the mountains until we hit the plains."

"Over the mountains?" Elliot looked at Joseph as if he had just lost what few screws he had. "You're kidding, right? That'll take days."

"You could do it," Skye said. "You can make thirty, easy-"

"Yeah, in a dash, but I don't think I could sustain that for more than an hour- and if there's any influence left..." Elliot let the hard fact hang in the air.

The bus driver interrupted them. "I'm heading back to Threed- it's better than waiting here. Your choice, kiddos."

Elliot looked to Skye, then to Joseph. "I'm outvoted, aren't I?"

Skye and Joseph nodded.

"Dammit." He paused for a moment. "But you're right. We can't afford to turn around here. Hey, driver, give us time to unpack, and then we're out of your hair."

The driver nodded, and opened the underside.

It was hot out. Elliot shrugged off his jacket, stuffed it into his old yellow backpack.

"Why are the stripes grey?" Joseph asked.

"Poor laundry care," Elliot explained.

Joseph tied his own jacket around his waist. "Well, if we're going to go, let's go."

Skye nodded, her hoodie stuffed into the teddy-bear backpack she always wore. "What about the luggage?"

"Hm... Hey, driver, could you get this stuff delivered to Onett?"

"Here, man-" The driver wrote down a phone number. "It's a great delivery service, which a bus is _not_." He handed it over to Elliot. "Oh, and there's a general store about half a mile back- I suggest you get some supplies."

Elliot nodded. "If they can even outfit us..."

"No worries, it'll all work out," The driver replied before closing off the door.

The luggage all removed, most of the stuff was piled onto Elliot's back. "Gee, didn't know humans could be packmules."

"Hey, at last you're not traveling with Clint Eastwood," Skye cracked.

"Nope, instead it's Q and Pippi Longstocking."

If Elliot felt Skye staring daggers into his back, he made no note of it.

It was less a general store and more an outfitter's shop. The place sold everything from clothes- the most basic only because of the transit costs- to water, to dried food, to crispbread.

They even had those neat little water packs you see sometimes. Elliot looked at them briefly, but shook his head. "We need the backpacks we have..."

"You'll need water in the desert," the shopkeep said.

"I know. Thing is, we're going to be walking through it to the east, and-"

"Ah, say no more, say no more! We'll get you fixed up right. Now, then, you all seem clothed well enough- though they don't seem too long for this world..."

"I can deal," Elliot replied.

"Right, right... Water... personal tents? Or are you two... Close?"

Elliot opened his mouth to speak, but Skye said "Yes, personal tents."

"Right. And you said you were going to be walking? Hm. For the desert, better a bivvy bag and a sleeper- it'll help keep things light. Spade, of course-"

Elliot cut him off. "Hey, do you have an ATM?"

"Actually, yes we do." The keep pointed it out. "There's a per-transaction charge, but you should do well enough."

Elliot nodded. "Could I use your phone?"

"Go ahead."

Elliot rang up... Escargot Express. "Hello, Escargot Express, this is Tracy speaking-"

"Trace? Well, holy crap, wonders never cease." Elliot broke out into a smile.

"Oh, wow! Big bro! Mom's been worried about you!"

"Yeah, but let's get down to business, I need some things sent home."

"Oh. Well, I'll get someone around there to pick it up. Shouldn't take too long- we've got couriers everywhere. Just write down the address and it'll get here, no worries. Where are you, anyway?"

"In the middle of New Mex, I think- Yo Joseph, where are we?"

"We're about a day's drive from Threed along Route 68."

"Oh, geez, I don't envy you, that's the Dusty Dunes Desert. Keep a compass handy."

"Will do, sis. See you when I get home."

"Soon?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure yet."

"Come home safe, okay, Elliot? Mom's really worried."

"I'll keep that in mind, Trace. Later."

"Later."

Elliot hung up. "Hey, man, do you have any packing labels?"

About half an hour later, they had been outfitted with survival equipment for a few days in the desert, and a small delivery truck arrived from Threed. "Yeah, I got some packages to pick up from... Elliot Fullerby?"

Elliot held up a hand. "That's me."

"Okay, I'll collect the delivery fee from you."

"Got it covered." Elliot had managed to stuff the folding bike, the paintball marker, and was about to put in Skye's teddy-bear backpack when-

"No. Not happening. I'm keeping that bear."

"All right..." he put the teddy bear aside. "So, what do you suggest gets put in there? You can't carry this around-"

"Sure I can. Put the knives in the box, and send it on."

"You found better?"

"Heh. You have no idea." These looked like small daggers, a hole in the back so rope or net could be looped through, and a very thin handle.

Elliot looked at them skeptically. "You sure you can throw those?"

"You pronounced it wrong."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. These too," Skye put them on the counter.

"All right. Let me get all this together..."

The total was pretty heft, but Elliot had managed to accrue just enough to get by. "Suppose we'll have to work harder..."

"Money flows through your fingers like water, " Skye noted.

"It happens, we're traveling. Money makes you go round the world."

"Isn't that a misquote?"

"Not the way I tell it," Elliot shrugged off the question.

They packed up their equipment, kept out the compass and relief map, loaded up the water, and trekked out of the store.

A day had passed. They'd learned early on to find shade in the heat of the day and rest often, if they were going to move at all.

Luckily, this left them plenty of time to be night owls, though the landmarks were a little harder to see, even with flashlights to look at the map with. They knew they had passed some ridges in the night, and they were still headed generally east. They found a small depression in a north face they could hole up in for the day, and finally lit a small cooking fire.

"Well, at this point, I'm thinking oatmeal sounds like an excellent idea," Joseph noted.

The others nodded, and waited out the day as best they could.

The sun rose on the third day, and Skye had an announcement.

"We've got problems."

"Oh?" Elliot said.

"We're running out of drinking water."

"Let's find a place to hole up for the day, we can decide what to do then..."

"There's not much point in holing up for the day without water, Elliot," Joseph argued. "May as well wait to die..."

"It'll keep us from running through it quicker than necessary... Come on." Elliot pointed. "There's an alcove that way."

"How do you spot this stuff?"

"How do you _not_?" Elliot trekked on, but there seemed to be something in the way... A caterpillar. If he had to take a guess, it was poisonous too. He got an evil grin as it turned blue. "Hehe. _FORE!_" He watched as it started to fly down the desert. "It's in the hole! It's in the hole!"

"All right, keep moving, Cinderella."

Elliot kept walking. "Okay, caddy, but I think my next should be the pool cue. What do you think?"

"Nah. Baseball bat."

"Baseball bat? Why a baseball bat?"

"Sand trap."

"Ah, right."

Joseph looked around. "No alcove, Elliot."

"Sure there is. See that crack in the face over there? It leads to a small underground."

"How can you tell?"

"It sounds different. The dark is too deep. All of about twenty different things. But most importantly, the condensation."

Joseph looked closely at it. "How did you know that?"

"You're the one with the scanning lenses, why didn't you see it?" It wasn't much deeper than the last alcove they had spent the day in, but this one was underground up to the neck, and had room for only one person to come out or go in at a time. "Even better, it's sheltered from the sun..."

"It'll still get hot, this is only an interim," Joseph shook his head.

"That's okay. We won't need much more than that," Elliot said.

"What are you talking about, Elliot?" Skye said. "We can't go back, and we can't go forward. Without any water, we're toast."

Elliot nodded towards it. "Get in the alcove. Run off the dried food. Conserve water as much as possible..." he started taking the empty water bags and bottles, and dumped out his clothes.

"Elliot, you're being a moron again."

"Yep," he said, cheerfully, and handed off the ATM card. "Just in case."

"I suppose your instructions are going to be just as typically idiotic?"

"Yep. Wait no longer than nightfall. If I'm alive and can't get back in time, I'll figure out some way to signal you. Meantime, stay here, get some sleep."

"Fine, but I reiterate that you're being a moron."

"Yep!" Elliot slung his backpack. "See you guys later! I hope..."

The sun had reached late morning, and Elliot was walking inside a small arroyo they had happened upon not to long ago. It was getting hot. Really hot. He should have taken water. At least he had a hat.

He wiped his forehead. At least, if all else failed, he could suck a little on his sweat. Not that that helped him much.

"You seem to be having a spot of trouble there." Elliot looked up at the voice, but he couldn't see its owner in front of the sun.

"Huh?" He replied.

"I said, you seem to be having a spot of trouble. You were the one dashing around before, right?"

Elliot looked down at the arroyo wall so as not to damage his eyes. "Yeah. You're one too, huh?" He didn't feel the need to keep up any pretense of being normal out here.

"Indeed. And I have a few words of advice."

"Oh?"

"Small jumps."

"What?"

"Dashing. It works best in small jumps, not one long, controlled burst. Efficiency is everything in the desert."

Elliot rolled his neck. "Yeah, so?"

"If you want to survive, follow my advice. It'll get you out of here much faster."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"If you're looking for water, you're on the right track. About two miles north of here, there's a small spring from the rock. It's not much, and the ground is very thirsty. But for your needs, it should be more than adequate."

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"Just... Come back here to listen to me a while more. You'll know when the time comes." And with that, he jumped across the rill and sped off into the desert in a flash of white. Elliot had never seen anyone run that fast.

At least the guy knew what he was talking about, then... Well, it wouldn't hurt too much to give it a shot. He stepped off, setting up the shield as he went.

It was like stepping off his feet and into some intangible vehicle- the wind pressed against his face before the shield took over, and in a few minutes, he was at the place the old man had told him about. And, sure enough, there was the spring. It filled the bottles in a little under half an hour. He couldn't say he hadn't broken a sweat, but that was because he was in the desert. But he wasn't breathing hard. Or even mildly winded.

Elliot laughed. Because, if he could move that fast, that effortlessly... They wouldn't need this much water.

No. That was a trap, and Elliot knew it. Just haul the water back to the alcove.

Of course, this much water was quite a load, and it would really be the first test of the stranger's words.

Well, if nothing else, Elliot would have water. But then, he would forget to bring the purifying tabs...

Nothing for it. He packed up the water, and slung it on his back. "Here's hoping size matters not..." Shield up, and off he went.

In the distance, the man in white removed his fingertips from the hard, dusty ground. "So that is Elliot... Tom and Carl were right..."

In about half an hour, Elliot skidded to a halt, almost overbalanced, and righted himself. He was more tired than he thought. Not out of using his power, but just from being up all night.

"Done being a moron, I see," Skye noted.

"But a _successful_ moron!" Elliot replied. "Let me in, I've got as much water as I could carry."

"Damn, how close was that water?"

"That can wait until I'm inside." He unslung the backpack, and dragged it into the alcove after him.

"So how far away was it?"

"Dunno," Elliot shrugged. "About three hours out, a half-hour back... I'd say about ten, twenty miles."

Joseph blinked. "That's a miscalculation, isn't it?"

Elliot shook his head. "Nope."

"But that means you'd be doing forty on the way back."

"Sounds about right. Don't drink that, it needs to e purified."

"Elliot, you can do that."

"Not now." Elliot shook his head to clear it. "Where's the food?"

"Plenty of food, but what about the water?"

"Use chlorine tabs, I know I bought some." Elliot gummed some particularly tough jerky. "Any saltines left?" He caught a package, long since crumbled in Skye's pockets. "Thanks." He emptied the contents into his mouth.

"... All that salt can't be healthy, Elliot."

"One word: Hyponatremia. Take some saltines yourself."

"Found the chlorine tabs," Joseph finally announced.

"Good, one tab per liter, then shake."

"I can read the instructions, Elliot."

"Then you're doing better than I am. I'm gonna try and grab some sleep-"

"Here," Skye passed him one of the last two canteens.

Elliot drank some of the contents. "Thanks." He lowered the miner's helmet over his eyes, and used his jacket as a pillow.

Joseph shook his head. "He can't be asleep yet."

"Of course not," Elliot replied. "What do you think I'm trying to do, suffocate?"

"With that helmet? Yes."

Elliot raised his helmet slightly, still covering his eyes. "Happy?"

"As long as you're still up, what's with your reckless abandon?"

"I'm twenty, I'm in good health, and I'm from Eagleland. Of course I think I'm invincible." Elliot held out a hand. "Pass me my grass stalk of office."

"Nah," Joseph said. "You'd go better with a poncho and a thin cigar."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Elliot put his hands behind his head. "Wake me when the water's ready, huh?"

A good half hour passed in silence. Finally, Skye looked at Joseph, expectantly. "Well? You're going to ask it."

"Is he really that powerful?"

Skye shrugged. "I've never had to say this, but I'm not entirely sure anymore. Had you asked me that a week ago, I'd have said no. But then he managed to foil my predictions..."

"Are they infallible?"

"Of course not. I'm not God." Skye leaned back.

"Then why is this any different?"

"Because the future refuses to change."

"So what went wrong?"

"I don't know what's with the Sanctuaries... And whatever it is, he's keeping it to himself." She smirked. "Some cock-and-bull story about a robotic bee from the future."

"A robotic bee from the future?"

"Yeah, I know, it's way out there-"

"It's so outlandish, I'm tempted to take him at face value..."

"Oh, don't give me that-"

"You can't deny that whatever it is, it has some qualities that haven't been seen before."

"Granted, but this goes beyond the pale."

"Is that because it's too strange... Or because it's too strange _to you_?"

"... What?"

"You're treading it like the passages of a beloved book, and you're treating the outliers like someone writing dirty words in the margins."

Skye shook her head. "Get some sleep, Freud."

"If I were Freud, I'd hang myself." Joseph paused. "And then I'd wake up and try to interpret it."

Skye blanched. "Go to sleep." She curled up as far away as she could get from the other two.

"Goodnight... Morning. Whatever."

That night, they made excellent time across the desert, while Elliot dragged them along for the ride. Joseph grabbed Elliot, while Skye grabbed Joseph, and the vacuum pushed them forward just as much as Elliot pulled them ahead.

At two hours, Elliot called the typical halt to get his bearings and let everyone stretch their legs. "Record an extra eighty miles," Elliot noted to Joseph.

"Okay, but where are we?"

"An excellent question!" Elliot was still looking at the compass. "East of where we were, of course..."

"Thank you, Elliot."

"Quite welcome." He looked at the map, then at the surrounding area. "Not exactly due east, but we're getting on back towards the road. You confirming that, Skye?"

"I told you, my power doesn't work on command."

Elliot shrugged. "In any case, if we keep heading the way I've been going, we should get back to Route 68. He packed up the map, shouldered his pack, and stood up. "How's the food holding out, Skye?"

"At forty miles an hour? Holding up fine."

"Good to hear." Elliot casually smacked the floor next to Skye, crushing a scorpion. "In any case, let's move on. We should be able to find another hole by daybreak."

Several hours, a lunch break, and two hundred miles later, the day began to break, in that strange pre-dawn light that happens every day near sunrise. They were in the middle of a rather large flat, and Elliot was definitely looking tired. "All right, we're walking the rest of the way."

"One problem: Where's the road?"

"Details. Right now, I think I know where we can hole up for the day. And it's a damn sight better than some hollowed out hole in a cliff. Come on." Elliot staggered forward.

"Steady," Joseph said.

"I'm steady, I'm steady..."

"Drink something, it's been three hours since the last break."

"Tch. Fine, but it's a waste." He drank out of his pack. "You'll see why in a minute..."

"In a flat? Where's the water?"

"Have I ever steered you wrong?" Elliot said, smiling.

"No, but now would be a good time to start."

"Bah. Mere quibbles!" Elliot waved it away. "Come on, let's get going." Nevertheless, he took frequent sips of water as they struck out to the southeast.

It was about half an hour later that they came upon the shack, and the first distracting rays of dawn were upon them. It was high, and only one story, with a canopied roof. It was fairly wide, clearly meant to house multiple people at a time.

The fact that there were several men also climbing out of this shack was a hint.

Elliot waved to them, shouted. "Hey!"

One of the men turned to him, then alerted the others.

Elliot realized that his party was no longer the cleanest looking group that had ever been, but going through a desert will do that for people. First thing on his list was getting new clothes for everyone once they got to Fourside, but first they had to get there.

"Hey, can we get a ride to Fourside?" Elliot asked, approaching the men.

The men looked at each other. "Why would this require the services of the Montagues?" the lead one said. They were miners, for certain, but they'd been out here a while, and yet managed to maintain a fairly unscraggly appearance, if marred by grime.

"That family actually exists?" Skye asked.

"Don't knock the name."

"We weren't!" Elliot said hastily. "But really, if we could get a ride into Fourside, that would be good."

"How much?"

"Fifty ought to cover the gas and your time both ways."

"I don't know... I'd have to say at least a hundred."

"Come now, take pity on a man who's just walked through the desert for three days! At least bring it down to sixty."

"Well, that may need to be taken into account, but my time's pretty valuable. Eighty-five."

"Come on, gas doesn't cost _nearly_ that much, not to get to Fourside. Could you let us get away with sixty-five?"

"Nah, we're on diesel. Seventy-five."

"Seventy?"

"Done."

"Cool. Up to you when we leave..."

"No worries, you'll go to Fourside with the cores we brought out yesterday."

"Rock."

"Exactly."

"Can we rest until then?"

"Yeah, sure, go ahead in the cabin."

About an hour later, another of the Montagues awakened them. "Truck's packed. Get a move on."

Elliot blinked, nodded, swung himself out of bed. "What're you boys prospecting for?"

"My brother jokes about gold, but mostly we're just looking for something other than alkali."

"Not gonna be easy."

"We know, but we got a good feeling about this spot."

He nodded. "Well, I suppose I'd better look you up later if I'm passing through, yeah?"

"I suppose."

"Thanks again."

The other two were roused in similar fashion. They slept through most of the way to Fourside. Elliot awoke long enough to see that they were on a large bridge heading out to the island. He looked up, and saw the skyline, and could only stare in wide-eyed shock. "That's a big city."

"Heh, you ain't seen nothing yet. Just wait till you see New York."

Elliot smirked. "I'll bet." He nodded. "Hey, do you know about the benefit in a couple days?"

"Blues Control? Yeah. Happening over at the Chaos Theatre."

"If you guys could drop me there..."

"Yeah, sure, it's on the way."

Elliot rested against the window. "Thanks. Wake me when we get there."

"You got it, boss."

END- Don't Dream It's Over


	23. Out of Control

**Chapter 23: Out of Control**

"Hey, boss. Wakey time." Elliot was almost shaken awake, but he caught the man's wrist.

"Right then, Mr. Montague." Elliot stepped out of the truck to discover the others had awakened before him.

If Twoson had been something of a shock to Elliot, this place was ridiculous. It was like he was standing in a canyon, a blockade, a wall of buildings so high he could see the distortion in perspective... For a few moments, all he could do was look up, stupidly, at the sight of nothing but concrete, glass, and steel all around him.

"Move your ass!" someone said, pushing by the group. "Damn tourists." Elliot didn't see his face, didn't know the man, and had protected his stuff fairly easily.

"Well, first order of business is to get tickets," Elliot said once snapped out of his reverie.

Skye nodded. "Three?"

"That seems about the size of it. We'll go ahead and get some rooms, wash up, then see if we can't get something to wear." Even Joseph's uniform was on its last legs, and Elliot had long since kept off his lucky shirt, instead using his straight black shirt almost to the point of disintegration. In fact, the grey dust of the desert had caked on it.

Elliot slipped off the sunglasses as he looked at the billing. "Tch. Fifth. Not that I'm surprised- they're a local phenomenon- but they could have rated third..."

Joseph looked at Elliot. "What are you talking about?"

"The Runaway Five," Elliot shrugged. He walked up to the box office. "There three tickets left for Blues Control?"

"Sorry, we're sold out," the man behind the counter stated. "You can check the Will Call..."

Elliot sighed. "Where is it?"

The man at the box office pointed it out, and Elliot made his way there.

"Names," the woman behind the counter said, in an almost bored tone.

"Fullerby?"

"Spell it, please?"

"F. U. L. L. E. R. B. Y."

"Hm..." The woman typed it in. "Huh. Three seats. Haven't been paid for. That's 180 for the lot."

Elliot laughed. "They thought ahead. Nice." He looked in his wallet, and his smile quickly faded. "Uh... How long are you going to hold those tickets?"

"Until concert night, you've got plenty of time."

"Okay then, how long is this office open?"

Will call raised an eyebrow. "Long enough, kid. Either pay, or go."

"Going." Elliot quickly stepped off. "Okay, so a few things on our to-do list today..."

Skye nodded. "Washing _first_."

"Oh, no question."

"Elliot?" Joseph asked.

"Hm?"

"Do you even now where a hotel _is_?"

"That's what our friends Mr. Phone Book and Mr. Timothy are for, Joseph." This was not as easy as it sounded- Elliot soon found that many of the phone booths in the area had had their books ripped off, and several weren't exactly helpful, on account of having many pages ripped out. Still others were out of date.

"Okay. Time to check with a friendly local businessman," Elliot said, walking towards a gas station.

"Friendly?" Skye said, skeptically.

"Friendlier than the phone booths at any rate."

Elliot walked into the convenience store attached to the gas station, selected some drinks. "Hey, mac, I'm looking for someplace to crash-"

"You can't sleep in my store."

"I was asking for a phone book, but that's good to know."

The clerk looked at Elliot. "All right, if it'll get you gone faster."

"I feel so loved." Elliot paged through it, found several hotels, wrote the numbers and addresses down, paid for the drinks, and passed them out to the others as they left. "Now all that's left is to check."

"Have you been in a big city before, Elliot?" Joseph asked.

"No, but this seemed the way to go about it, why?"

Joseph shook his head. "No reason."

About half an hour of calls later, Elliot had a nice hit. "Okay, we've got a Heicon about three miles from here with three rooms open. I've reserved them, so as long as we get there after 11, we should be fine."

"What's the problem with them?"

"Honestly? They're all suites... $675 a night for all of us, and we'll probably be rattling around."

"$675?" Joseph asked.

Elliot nodded. "225 per."

"How many rooms do these suites have?"

"Dunno."

"How many people are they expecting?"

"Not sure."

"Well, no use waiting here," Skye interrupted. "We're not exactly welcome..."

"Yeah, no kidding," Elliot noted. "Let's go ahead and move over there."

"How long are we planning on staying here?" Joseph asked.

"As long as you need. Least I can do after that crap with the desert."

"Don't run yourself out of cash."

"Of course not." Elliot set off-

And was stumbled into by someone who was quite clearly drunk. "Steady, man," Elliot said, righting him as lightly as possible.

"Gah. Kids today. Don't know where they're going..."

Elliot took a breath. "Excuse me?"

"Y'heard me!" The drunk took a wild swing at Elliot, who easily ducked it. "Stand still, y'damn bum!"

"I don't want no trouble here," Elliot said, backing away from the man.

"Well I want trouble with you!" The man was starting to turn blue.

_Crap._ "Now, there's no need for that-" The man tried to punch Elliot in the face again. Elliot swayed aside and tapped the drunk in the side of the head with the back of his hand. The drunk went down. "I told him..." Elliot shrugged.

The man got to his feet, and walked on with no further trouble, though he still bobbed and weaved about.

"There's probably going to be a lot of this..." Elliot jerked his head. "C'mon, let's go."

"How can you be so calm?"

"He'll be fine," Elliot said, moving on. "I only pushed him over."

"If you say so..." Joseph replied, nonplussed.

"Come on, we've promises to keep..." Elliot shrugged.

"And miles to go before we sleep," Skye picked up.

"You read Frost?" Joseph asked.

"Who hasn't?" Elliot shrugged again. "But it's beside the point."

About an hour later, they arrived at the front steps of what could only be an airport hotel. 'Fourside Grand Hotel'. "Well, here we are, Pismo Beach and all the clams we can eat."

"Wrong turn at Albuquerque, fool," Skye remarked.

"Chill." He walked into the door, and greeted with none-too-happy looks from other people staying there. He got out the requisite cash from the local ATM, and stood patiently in line at the registration desk.

"Name?"

"Three suites under 'Fullerby'?"

The desk man looked at them. "Only this many in your party, sir? We were expecting nine."

"You were?"

"They're three-bed suites, sir."

"Hm... Guys?" He called the others into a huddle. "Uh, go ahead and process other people while we talk."

"Of course." The desk man waved another person in.

"Okay," Elliot said, turning back to the huddle, "What do we do?"

"Well, there's no avoiding paying them tonight..." Joseph said. "They've reserved the rooms in your name."

"Yeah, that's covered, no prob, but do we keep the other rooms, or just keep one suite?"

"You could get us three separate rooms..." Skye prompted.

"Booked solid."

"Damn."

"Still leaves the question of what we do after tonight." Elliot shrugged. "I don't see why we can't just keep one suite."

"I'd like to keep all three. Just because."

Joseph paused. "There is one thing I'd like to ask the personnel."

"Hm?"

"How many bathrooms to a suite?"

"I'll check," Elliot said, and a moment later, he returned. "Two full."

"Hm... I'd say my objection's lifted. You, Skye?"

"I can lock the door, right?"

"If we can't I'll pay for the three suites, no problem," Elliot said. "I'd just rather we were frugal with the money- no telling when it will dry up."

"Okay. So we'll take the three suites today, check them out, then meet here in the lobby." Everyone nodded.

"Two hours?" Joseph asked.

"Should be long enough. After that, though, I want to head over to the Chaos Theatre."

They all looked at each other, nodded, and made their way back to the desk. "Okay, one key to each of us, and I take it they're only reserved for tonight?"

"Well, yes, but it's open for a few weeks."

"I'll keep that in mind. Do you take debit?"

Elliot tested the door. It locked. After that, it was a simple matter to get into the shower. No cooking equipment, but the place wasn't really meant for an extended stay, and besides, he'd just called his dad. As one of the few Field Investigators left, he was making a killing; in fact, he was a runaway first in the raw data.

The bathroom was large, and suited for two people to use at once; with one tub and one shower, presumably so whoever was using it could switch between them.

Elliot took a look at the shower stall. He supposed he ought to shower, but...

A few minutes later, he had finished drawing his bath, and got in to soak his tired self and get off most of the dirt accumulated from three days in the desert.

He leaned against the tile tableau containing the tub. What a week. So many questions to ponder... But first, he should just take... a little nap...

_Water. Warmth. Elliot curled in, and let the water flow into him, and out of him, and through him, until it was hard to tell what was the water, and what was Elliot; and while he did, the water spoke to him. It spoke of the dreams and the hopes of the Earth, it spoke of secrets he had known all along. And then... It began to speak with a more certain tone. _

_It whispered in his ear. "The places where I stood and said, 'this place is mine'... 'This place is mine... And nothing will take that away from me...' Tell me, Ness, where do you stand?"_

_The water flowed away, leaving him cold, it formed into a shadow. Holding a door. The voice he had recognized so often in laughter, speaking to him- "Give in. You can do nothing but kill, nothing but slaughter. You are the hatred of the earth, and nothing more." _

_The voice whispered to him once more. "You must not hate-" _

_Elliot suddenly found himself saddled with a door to fight with, and burst to the attack-_

Elliot awoke to the sound of pounding on a door, rather disoriented. The water was now cold. He groaned unintelligently.

"Godsdammit, Elliot, you wouldn't bother to show up for your own funeral!" Was that... Skye? "Get your lazy flake ass out here, you jerk! You were supposed to be downstairs an hour ago!"

Elliot slowly climbed out of the tub, pulled the plug, grabbed a towel, and still the pounding continued. "If you're not awake, I'm kicking the door down, and screw the cost!"

"Shut your pie hole, Skye, I'm awake!" Elliot shouted. "Damn, it's getting so a guy can't take a nap in the bathroom he rented without someone getting in a huff about it-"

"Elliot, one more word and I swear my foot will be lodged-"

"I think that's enough, Skye..." Joseph warned.

Elliot dressed, shrugged on his jacket, got his walking staff, grabbed his wallet and keycard and got out there. "Okay, so where to now? Chaos Theatre, right?"

The others nodded. "Okay. Now. Where's some coffee?"

A cup of coffee all around later (and some minor kvetching by Joseph that it isn't as good as Tom Hirton's), all of them took a look at the in-hotel restaurant menu, and shook their heads.

"We go look for food now?" Elliot asked.

"Yeah... That sounds like a decent idea..." Skye hazarded. "But where...?"

"Well, let's just look around, there has to be something other than hotels around here..."

The others nodded.

It was around the corner. The hotels fell away, leaving in their place cargo facilities, and warehouses, and other big, blocky buildings that served the airport. And there were take-away places, but the place that was most crowded had a lot of people knotted into one place.

They made their way to it, and found that it was a food cart, selling, of all things, hot dogs and tamales.

Elliot and Joseph looked at each other, then at Skye, who shrugged. "What are you looking at me for? I don't know this guy either."

"Uh, right. I'll take one," Elliot said, handing over a couple of bills.

"This gets two," the sweaty man behind the cart said.

"Sure, whatever. Anyone else feel brave?"

"I'll bite," Skye said.

Joseph fished the last dollar he had out of his pocket and handed it to the man. "May as well miss the concert together..."

They looked at the three tamales handed to them. The sauce was reddish-brown, and trickled down generously into the cardboard holders. The seller handed them some forks in a helpful manner.

Skye was the first to take a bite. She blanched a little, but considered. "It's funky."

"Is that funky as in funky fresh or as in smells fun-KAY?" Elliot asked.

"I'm still deciding, don't rush me."

Elliot shrugged. "Whatever." He took a bite. It tasted like tamale that had been liberally soaked with chili- the kind with lots of heat behind it. Elliot coughed a little. "'sgot a kick!"

"Yeah," Skye said, "But it doesn't taste like tamale to me, for some reason."

Finally, Joseph took a bite. He blinked, and looked cockeyed at the creation in front of him. "Tastes like someone put too much tomato in the curry."

"It's a tamale, Joseph, not a curry," Elliot said, heartening enough to start actually eating it.

Soon enough, they had all finished. It wasn't exactly the best fare they'd had, but it was, all in all, decent; certainly, it was better than what they'd had recently.

"It's like eating a train wreck," Skye finally remarked.

"We _get_ it, Skye, you don't like it much," Elliot replied. He rolled his eyes and started walking toward the Chaos Theatre.

Skye paused for a moment, completely blank, then snapped back to reality. "Incoming!" She flattened against the wall of a building, as a taxi careened through the street at her. Elliot turned, leapt onto the hood, and went over the car via stepping off the roof.

The taxi came back around clearly intent on killing them, its tires squealing in a fishtail.

_No one was driving it._

"_Elliot! Out of the way!_" Joseph shouted, trying to get a bead on the radiator.

Elliot, however, was looking the taxi dead in the windshield. He dropped his staff and cracked his knuckles.

The taxi revved, hit second gear, and rushed Elliot.

Elliot's knuckles glowed white. His hands pounded on the hood of the taxi, which cantilevered into the air. Elliot rolled under it just before the roof would have crushed him. He shook out his hand, and then collected his staff. "This city is starting to piss me off."

Joseph looked to Skye, his shocked expression begging for an explanation; she shrugged, just as amazed as he was.

Elliot turned around. "Coming?"

They ran after him.

Soon, they had managed to figure out the bus schedule well enough to get to the Chaos Theatre and back to the hotel. For now, they purchased their tickets.

Attached to the will call was a note. _Meet us before the show. -Lucky_

Elliot passed it to Skye, who passed it to Joseph. Joseph raised an eyebrow. "What's all this, then?"

Elliot grinned. "They want to talk to us."

"Down, fanboy," Skye warned. "Let's see what they want."

Minutes later, they were ushered backstage by security, through the alley entrance.

Elliot dusted himself where he had been handled briefly. "Can't say much for the service..."

The security man glared at him, and Elliot dropped it.

A much more friendly stagehand directed them to a small green room off the stage, where there were many setups stored, as well as the Runaway Five, sitting around in hard foldable chairs. It smelled of dust and mildew, but then, everything in the city smelled of mildew.

"Hey, guys," Lucky said.

"Hi, Lucky!" Elliot chirped.

Joseph poked Skye on the shoulder. "Is he-"

"Yes."

"Glad you're all here," Gorgeous continued. "See, we've got a problem."

Elliot shook his head. "Oh, no..."

Wolfgang nodded. "When it comes to the music, we got what it takes, but not so savvy with the cash."

"Oh, guys..." Elliot put his head in his hand. "How'd you get roped into it this time?"

"We're not quite sure," Lucky said. "All of a sudden, we're in debt for some exorbitant amount."

"Oh, guys..." This sounded even more dejected than the last time. "I can't manage to bail you out this time."

"Look, we'll pay it back somehow" Gorgeous said. "We don't know how. We don't know when, but we will." Elliot looked unconvinced. "And... We'll... Give you an autographed copy of any future albums."

"Done!" Elliot said, before the others could stop him.

"_Elliot!_" Joseph said through grit teeth.

"What? They already told us they owe us their ass. What do you want from them, blood?"

"Well..."

"I get it," Elliot cut off. "Okay, what's your opinion, Skye?"

"Let's see what they're in for, first. But as for me, in for a penny, in for a pound, I suppose."

Elliot nodded. "Okay. So, how much is it?"

"Well, you'll have to ask the manager... most of this goes way over our heads."

"All right. Let me talk to him." Elliot nodded to the others.

"Hey, we're setting up for a rehearsal set."

"Okay, I'll stick around after."

"Don't we have something _better_ to do?" Joseph asked, after they had left.

"Like what?"

"Maybe watching paint dry? Elliot, they're complete deadbeats!"

"We don't know that yet. Last time, they were stupid, or maybe unobservant." Elliot allowed.

"Okay, fine, but why do _we_ have to bail them out?"

"It's good karma."

"I agree here. After all, how bad can it _possibly_ be?" Skye winced. "I should not have said that. I should _not_ have said that."

It was an ornate office, the size of the green room the Runaway Five were using as a locker area. The leader of this theatre was male, a Mr. Poochyfud by name. "Hm? The Runaway Five? Bailing them out? Heh, sorry, no."

"What? Why not?" Elliot asked.

"It's just impossible, unless you scrubs happen to have one million dollars."

"GODDAMMIT!" Skye screamed.

"One... Million... Dollars?" Elliot asked, pinching the bridge of his nose under his sunglasses.

"That's right." Mr Poochyfud was not an unkind man, but business was business. He smirked. "One million dollars. Unless you happen to be carrying that in loose bills, or had some buried gold, I highly doubt you could ever raise enough."

Joseph looked perplexed. "Could I see the relevant paper trail? I fail to see how they could owe a million dollars in the course of a week."

Mr. Poochyfud handed them over. "I think you'll see I'm right."

Joseph ran over the figures, paging over. "According to this, they're funding the whole benefit. Where's the sponsors?"

"Sponsors?"

"I... See... And who's this Monotoli?"

"Hm? The Monotoli Corporation? It has partial ownership in the theatre."

"Thank you." Joseph handed back the papers. "Okay, let's go."

"What? But this is-" Elliot could not _believe_ this.

"Just come on." Joseph turned around. "Oh, one more thing- where's the Monotoli building?"

The Monotoli Building was far and away the tallest building in town. While this made it more than vulnerable to hurricanes, it stood proud through even the worst storms with no more than broken glass to its name, and overshadowed the City Hall with a tenacity that bordered on the criminal.

Elliot looked up to the top floor of the skyscraper, a spire that seemed to emphasize the sheer tallness of it. "Am I the only one getting bad vibes here?"

"No," the others answered at once.

"Just checking. You sure it's here, Joseph?"

"Yes."

"Right then," Elliot said. "Time to see what this is all about." They entered the building.

It was a calm, tiled structure, full of cold stone and perhaps colder people. There was a receptionist's desk, made out of the same faux marble as the rest of the lobby. A few plants tried desperately to look in-place

Overall, despite the attempt at taste, it ended up feeling bland, uninspired, and mildewy.

The receptionist looked at them strangely as they passed. They ignored her, and Elliot took a look at the directory.

Elliot shook his head, and his eyes widened in disbelief and anger. "Oh, _hell_ no."


	24. Elevation

**Chapter 24: Elevation**

"Oh,_hell_ yes." It was a bathroom, on the sixty-fourth floor. A full bath, with running water and tiled floors, the tub was pure porcelain. And sitting in that bathtub, making exultations at no one in particular, was a certain Paul "Pokey" Minch.

Whether this was because he was relaxing in his own tub for what may have been the first time ever, or because he had managed to one-up his idiot brother, or because he had also managed to one-up one Elliot Fullerby in the same swift stroke, none could say. His jowls shook in what may have been the heartiest laugh he had had in a long time.

Pokey was reminded of himself. There were things to do in a moment. He began to prepare.

Elliot got out of the elevator, and flipping off the priss operating it right after the door closed, walked with purpose to the door marked "6402".

A burly-looking man stepped in front of the door; Elliot pushed him back into his old position with one finger. "Step aside."

It was a all a garish golden color; the kind you see painted on to figures that isn't really gold at all, and is barely a reasonable facsimile. Joseph and Skye were trailing lamely behind him, caught up in a whirling storm.

And then, sitting in perhaps the kitschiest version of an old Roman couch- with elaborate gold threading, no less- sat-

"Pokey. I might have known."

"That's Vice President Minch, you jerk. Show some respect." He looked at the party. "Huh. She's still here. Seriously, Elliot, what is it with you and blondes?"

Elliot restrained himself, barely, but Skye just calmly walked up to Pokey. "Pokey, I want you to listen very carefully to me, all right?" She connected with a swift, sharp blow to his upper left sinus using the tips of two fingers. "_I'm not his girlfriend, you dick!_"

Pokey himself was a bit worse for wear having crossed the desert through means unknown. If he was sort of ill when last they had met, he looked positively sallow now, and his blue eyes seemed to have an odd sheen to them. "Ow! Right. If you can't keep a leash on her, I'm going to have to ask her to leave-"

"Hold your horses, you lying, cheating, brown-nosing-" Elliot started.

Pokey waved a finger. "Uh. Be polite, Elliot, I don't think you can deal with four of these fine members of security at once." He shook that finger and smirked. "Really, your temper doesn't do you any good."

"I know you're at the bottom of this, Pokey. And as soon as I find out_how_-"

"Empty threats, Elliot," Pokey tsked. "Just because you're jealous of me being a big man..."

"Yeah, stretching the limits of the horizontal as well as the vertical." Elliot looked genuinely concerned for a second. "Seriously, you should see a doctor about that."

"_As I was saying_," Pokey said, edge suddenly in his voice, "Just because you're jealous is no reason to spread such accusations. Unless you happen to have proof, in which case, you'd take it to the police." He seemed to snigger, as if this was his own little joke.

Joseph finally spoke up. "Actually, there are a couple of accounting anomalies I'd like to discuss, if you have a free moment-"

"Hm? What's this? The sound of someone butting in? Well, now, this explains so much of what I've heard about Elliot becoming a mad scientist! C'mon, gimme a cackle. It's good for you."

Joseph didn't even appear fazed by this, though his gun hand twitched a little. "Quite. But I don't think I'd give you the satisfaction." He adjusted his glasses, letting the glare momentarily shine in Pokey's eyes. "In the meantime, I'd like to know where Blues Control's sponsors went?"

"Hm? Them? Oh, they bailed out, that's all."

"And the other bands? Why is only the Runaway Five footing the bill?"

"This is getting boring, what with you expecting me to have _answers_. Security!"

The guards advanced, particularly set on Elliot, who brushed them off. "I'll show myself out, thanks. And I'll be coming back, Pokey."

"Oh, I'm well aware, Smelliot. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out."

Elliot made a rude gesture at the entire tower before going on his way. "Well, that was about as fun as a root canal..."

The other two nodded grimly.

"Well, I'm lost for ideas. We have no police power here, I doubt they'd listen to a group of tourists about the most powerful company in town."

Joseph paused. "We'll have to get them out of hock ourselves."

"Yeah, but how? We'd need to find gold or some-" Elliot paused, got a Zero Mostel smile, and turned to the others. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I think so, Brain," Skye replied, "but where would we find so much pantyhose at this time of night?"

"I was being serious, Skye. Just... Let's rest tonight. In the morning, we'll be leaving Fourside."

"Where are we going?"

"To someone who did us a favor."

"So why are we going?"

"Call it a hunch."

They returned to the hotel. Elliot only had time to think about how empty the room felt before collapsing into the huge bed, to be taken by fitful dreams of darkness.

When everyone was up the next morning, Elliot was off. He grabbed Skye's hand, who barely had time to grab Joseph before they were off.

"ELLIOT! SPEED TRAPS!"

"NOT A PROBLEM!"

"WHY?"

"WHO'D BELIEVE 'EM?"

And the only thing Joseph could note was that he was keeping up with traffic...

Not two hours later, Elliot came to a skidding halt in back of a small crowd that had decided to gather at the edge of a dusty two-lane highway which was nevertheless so new that there was still sand on the paint. And there, in the middle of the crowd, was a large borehole, which led to a propped-up tunnel.

"Knew it..." Elliot said, pausing to catch his breath.

"Huh?"

"They found something. Faith is central to any endeavor-"

There were shouts from the crowd- a man was staggering backward out of the cave- he was clutching his side. Elliot saw a large, sinister presence back into the cave, and rushed down the artificial basin to the man's side.

He was hurt bad- gut pierced. It was the driver. He helpfully supplied a word to Elliot: "Shit."

"Yeah, thanks, I can see that, rest right now." He placed a hand on the wound. He was even more torn up on the inside than the three pierce marks would indicate. It was more like someone doing a precision claw job. "Tch. That's bad... Life."

The man's intestines might be sewing up, but Elliot knew that wouldn't be enough- gut fever was always terrible. It wasn't enough to heal the wound, he had to purify the man as well. His mind clicked. "Heal." The infection disappeared.

"I hope you know, whatever you did, it stings like hell."

"Yeah, I know. PSI isn't a magic pill." Elliot helped him up. "How do you feel?"

"A lot less like I was clawed by a giant mole martial artist, thanks." The man made a wry smile. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon."

"One good turn deserves another, eh?"

The man dusted himself off. "Well, as you can see, we managed to find some good samples. But... We seem to have run into a preexisting tunnel system. And it's infested with monsters like that."

Elliot looked to Skye and Joseph, who nodded. "Well, sir, seems like we'd be just the folks for that kind of job."

"Oh? And who are you then?"

"Fullerby, Polestar, and Andonuts Parapsychic Investigation." Elliot nodded. "No worries, man, we'll help you out."

"So you'll clear out the cave?"

"Sure, man. You were a lifesaver yesterday, it's the least we could do. Anything we need to know?"

"Nothing you probably don't already know... But that place is a maze. You'll need help if you're going to get out safely."

Elliot smiled. "I think we'll manage."

When they had left the earshot of the man, Skye and Joseph said at once, "Parapsychic Investigation?"

"What the hell was I supposed to say? 'Three Unqualified College Kids'?"

"It would have been closer to the truth, yes!" Skye snapped. "We don't have time for this, Elliot!"

"They're mining raw precious gems, Skye. Think about that for a second, and apply it to our current situation."

And then Skye and Joseph both got the Zero Mostel smile Elliot had been sporting earlier. "Now that that's over with... Let's see what's going on behind door number one." He padded into the system.

It was surprisingly cool. The dampness slapped him in the face after spending even a brief time out in the sun of the Dusty Dunes.

Lights strung themselves across the ceiling a brief way into the system, but halted abruptly at a small opening.

Total darkness greeted Elliot's vision, but slowly, surely, an image started to form in his mind from the brief echoes, the way the wind blew, and even the varied scents.

He clutched at his head, and could see the dark brownish ground, even as he kneeled, nauseous. "It'll be dark for the rest of the way," Elliot said. "He might have been attacked here. The way splits into three not far from here. I'll take the right branch. Joseph, take the middle. Skye, the right. Go to the intersection there and stop- if any of us meet, we'll go there."

"You're suggesting we _split up_, Elliot? Have you gone _mad_?"

"No." He handed Skye his flashlight. "Here. Don't waste your powers on light. Joseph, you have your ways. Watch out for snakes."

Joseph nodded. "I'd rather we stayed together-"

But Elliot was already gone.

Darkness. Further darkness. Why did he do that? There was something about this place, this darkness he had to see for himself. The snake ahead struck at him before he could react- but he could still see it, see everything. He could feel the burning as the venom entered his bloodstream. Before the Snake could strike again, Elliot beat it down. The feeling as the poison was forced out of his body by his psionics was... Unpleasant, but nowhere near the painful death that the venom promised. Weakly, Elliot got up, and proceeded to... A ladder?

This smacked of all sorts of problems. Something was below, waiting for him. A large... Bug of some kind. The picture in his head was impossible- _had_ to be impossible. He had no light.

And yet, there it was, clear as daylight. It was a hallucination. It had to be. But, if it was a hallucination, Elliot hoped it was an accurate one. He leapt down on top of the gigantic insect, crushing its rear legs with his weight before laying into the insect's head. It was over almost before it began.

Elliot paused, calmed himself. The insect was already shrinking. He walked the way down. There were no shadows. Everything was so... _clear_. It was as if someone had taken off the fog setting. There was a corridor on his right. No. He was in a corridor. This was more like a room.

Someone waited within. Someone who stood up, eight feet of fur and bone and sinew.

"Another invader of our dojo?" The thing- it was a mole. Elliot could see every detail in an impossible sort of manner. The mottled fur, the pupils dilated beyond belief in the darkness, the claws which, come to think, had a dried ruddy brown substance on them that Elliot did not want to know the composition of.

"Not quite." Elliot yawned overdramatically. "But yeah."

"Feh. Unlucky for you that you have to face the third most powerful of us so early, then."

"Why? How many of you are there?"

"Five. The school is small, but powerful."

Elliot rose one eyebrow and hiked a thumb behind him. "What about the insect and the poisonous snakes?"

"Oh. They're just vermin," it replied, dismissively. "Watch out for the animated rope. I still don't know what's up with that."

"Ah. Thanks." He waved. "Well, if there's nothing else..."

"Not so fast!" The mole struck a proper fighting stance.

Elliot sighed. "Do we really have to fight? You seem like such a nice fellow."

"I want to see this vermin's bane."

Elliot tapped his staff on the ground, twisting it nervously in his hands. He and the mole paced off against each other, circling slowly.

"Your form is weak!" The mole said, striking at Elliot, who barely twisted out of the way. "No balance! No force!"

There was little space to retreat in this ring, which was making things more than difficult on Elliot. He felt a slight sting, heard the rending of cloth- but not leather.

And then he tried to move. Then it started tearing, and _then_ it hurt. He put a hand to his waist. "Life..."

"Nice crutch. It won't help you-" Elliot backwheeled out of the way of its next strike.

This was _not_ working. He couldn't move in the tight space. Sure, he was escaping the killer blows like the one that had gouged his abdomen, but the little scratches were starting to take their toll, and one too many close calls for his taste, what with him against a wall-

Of course. Elliot let himself get backed into a wall, planted his feet against it and shoulder charged the mole, who was completely taken in. They fell to the ground- Elliot tossed his staff aside for the moment, it was useless in groundwork- socked it one in the face- rolled off before it could retaliate with the vicious claws- and grabbed his staff, up and ready to fight.

The mole had also reached its feet. "You're learning."

"Isn't that the point?" Elliot blinked. "And damn, I thought I hit you harder than that."

After that he had no time for talking. It was sluggish. Elliot pasted the mole one; it backed off; Elliot twisted, his staff cracked in half spectacularly, spinning into the air.

The thing collapsed, and Elliot caught the other side of his staff as it came down. "Dammit."

A small packet was near where the mole had fallen. It was one of those silly little supplements that claimed to enhance your wits. Elliot shrugged and pocketed it in his jeans.

"Elliot!?" Joseph called.

Elliot turned- he knew exactly where Joseph was, though he felt a little disoriented as whatever was replacing his vision gave him the actual image of Joseph's voice behind him. He blinked as his eye adjusted- finally- to the new light. "Hey, Joseph. Find anything interesting?"

"Nope. What about- oog. Was that-"

Elliot nodded. "It's gonna be real easy to get lost in here. Let's find Skye."

"Back the way I came?"

"Pretty much."

Skye, meanwhile, was not going to wait around for the others to clean this place out.

It wasn't the snakes that had any influence on this decision. Oh, certainly not. No.

She nailed another one to a cavern floor by its tail, let out an unappreciative noise, and waited until it fell unconscious before removing the knife.

A ladder slowly resolved itself out of the dimness of the flashlight. "This place just keeps getting weirder..."

Her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath, and dropped, and everything faded into knives and light and sharpness. She could see claws before they struck, hands before they reached; and all her choices were laid bare before her.

Everything snapped back into focus when her knife was an inch from Elliot's throat. She paused. "That won't kill you..." She muttered, before putting the knife away, and walking back to the ladder.

"Wait, what the _hell_?" Because, for a second, he had seen a different color in her eyes- from the brown he had come to recognize... To a disquieting shade of blue. He put a hand on her shoulder, turned her around. Brown again. "You okay, Skye?"

"I'm fine, what's your deal, Elliot?"

He shook his head. "It's nothing, let's keep going. Far as I'm concerned, we can't get out of here soon enough..."

Elliot's sunglasses poked down for a moment, looking left, looking right. "Two ladders. We came down that one, so..." He put up his glasses. "Let's head somewhere else, yes? I'll go ahead first."

Joseph brought up the rear, occasionally looking behind them for trouble. Skye seemed oddly haggard, even more so than usual considering they had gone three days without proper rest.

Up the ladder, into more darkness. Joseph adjusted the aperture on his scanning glasses. "Too much absorption for sonar or radar..."

Of course, the loud cry of anger just ahead in the tunnel meant Joseph had indeed found something.

"Great, so it's sensitive to subsonics too..." Elliot muttered, pulling out both halves of his broken staff.

They rounded the corner, Elliot twisting the pieces to parry the mole's claws, with the mole responding by setting up a white aura around himself, and preparing himself for the crowd.

They all hung back, considering. Agreement passed between them. Elliot stepped forward, taking point; he struck-

And the shield struck _back _with enough force to almost dislocate Elliot's shoulder, and leaving him wide open to get really torn into. Elliot backed off. All three started to press, to try and get into the fight- ended up surrounding the mole- Elliot's strikes hit nothing but air as he tested the limits of the Mole's shields.

Skye got a smirk, tossing one of the odd knives into the air. "Thunder!" The mole turned towards her, in an attempt to ward off the blow-

Two forks of electricity, the smell of ozone and a sound like a whip-crack-

And both struck the other side of the mole, at Elliot-

And right into the disregarded Franklin Badge-

Which blasted Elliot back as it responded with enough force to fry a small chicken-

Right into the small of the back of the Mole-

Which collapsed, writhing, on the floor. "BASTARDS!"

Elliot stormed right up to Skye. "What the _hell_ was that about, Skye? Are you _trying_ to kill me now?"

"You had the badge, there was nothing to worry about-"

"It still _hurt!_ And there's no possible way you can justify the chance of actually shocking me-"

"Actually, yes I can, but it might take too long to explain-"

"Explain away, Miss Ends Justify the Means!"

"Oh, that's rich-"

Joseph made a cutting motion. "Hey! When you two are done arguing, I'll be down that way." He stormed off, leaving them to it. _Honestly_, those two, it was enough to make him tear out his hair in frustration. Of course, considering the labyrinthine nature of the place he was in, Joseph was not too surprised when he ended up lost. Again.

"All right, where are you, you son of a bitch? I know you're around here somewhere, and I got some anger to work off."

"Anger? Anger isn't the way of a warrior." _Behind_ him? Shit!

He turned, quickly to encounter... A little mouse? "You can talk?"

"Of course I can talk, whippersnapper, and a lot more besides, but for now let's talk turkey."

"Huh?"

"These are my sons. We know the exit. You're clearly lost. Let's talk deal."

"Why not." Joseph sighed. "I've done five other impossible things today, why not add another by listening to a talking mouse. I must be going mad." A pause, as he considered the prospect, and then added, "Okay, madder."

"Never mind insanity. What is, is." The motherly sort of mouse nodded in a matron-like, philosophic manner. "Most importantly, might you be able to spare some crackers or something?"

Joseph looked through his pockets and his pack and came up with a packet of saltines, handing them over to the mouse. "Thank you kindly." It nibbled at the saltines, and her two sons started working on the other one.

"Are those... Signs?"

"Yep," the mother responded. "You're looking at one of the few colonies of Exit Mice in the world."

"Well, then-"

"Make sure they're well fed, okay? They're tough boys, but food's hard to come by, in here..."

Joseph nodded, and one of the boys climbed into his jacket pocket. He perked up his ears.

"_well, maybe, if you had half a BRAIN, Elliot, we wouldn't be haring off_-"

Yep. Still arguing. Joseph stood up, and looked about the hub he now found himself in. He vaguely recognized one way as the way he came in, and saw the dead end of another. So he took the one that was apparently heading north. The arguing thankfully seemed to die down as he approached the end of the corridor.

Unfortunately, a mole was standing there, in the shadows, waiting for him, if the thermals were any indication. Crap.

Well, this seemed as good a time as any to test out his new weapon. He didn't really know what the damn thing was really for, but he was vaguely aware that it blew up fresh eggs. Which meant this weapon had some sort of destructive force. Worth a shot.

Looking over the weapon, Joseph set the aperture to 'scrambled'. And sighed. Hefting it in two hands, took aim...

The first blast went high, a loud buzzing emitting from the weapon as it fired. He barely saw where it went, but it did cause a small cascade of dirt. The lack of kickback surprised him, as well.

Aiming a little lower despite his instincts, he fired again. This one managed to hit the mole as it advanced, slamming into its shield, sending various offshoots of the beam all over the hole. One hit Joseph in the arm, which stung terribly. He kept the beam on the Mole, who was still trying to advance, and doing so quite easily. Joseph dived out of the way of its attack, shutting off the beam. At least the shield was down now...

It was difficult, at best, to keep his distance. He vaguely heard something hitting the ground as he took aim again, firing.

He hit the Mole in an arm, to which it responded by raising one claw, sending a wave of dirt at him. Joseph couldn't get out of the way in time, tumbled to try and get to his feet, not even bothering to fire again. He winced as his ankle throbbed.

The mole still favored his right side, but took this as a time to pause. "Very good. But my strength falls between the second and fourth masters of this hole. You will not find me an easy target."

Joseph paused. "What, do all of you think you're third strongest?"

"Don't try and confuse me." It pointed a single claw at Joseph. "You can't survive against me long with that ankle."

"You can't work for long against me while you're still favoring that left arm."

"Indeed. Shall we finish this, then?"

Joseph set the aperture to 'over hard'. "Sure, why not?"

The mole paused, waiting for some signal. Joseph aimed low, and fired, just before the Mole could start his attack. "Guns... A coward's weapon..."

"Not necessarily. I faced you openly, didn't I? You were hiding in the shadows." Joseph set it back to 'fresh', and felt the trigger lock.

"Mercy? I'm surprised..."

"Don't be." Joseph shook his head. "Elliot must be rubbing off on me." He turned around, looking over where he had just fought. The HUD pointed out two very hot points on the ground. Turning them off, he found... Two casings, similar to bullets, but not quite.

He wrapped his jacket around one hand, and picked up one of the casings. It had circuitry on it... More like it was a battery than a bullet, which seemed to fit.

Joseph popped the magazine. There were five of them left in the mag. Eight shots? He shook his head. Eight _cells_, each of which was good for how long? This required further investigation, but he heard footfalls.

Collecting both of them and stowing them in... an oddly handy compartment of his backpack... Joseph fervently wished he knew precisely what he had done last night.

Elliot and Skye were, indeed, the ones coming up the tunnel. "You okay?" Elliot was quick to ask.

"Think my ankle's busted, but-"

Elliot was taking a look at it in a trice, intent on it. "Hm. Bit of a sprain, not a problem to heal..."

It felt like pain suddenly leaving. "Uh, okay..." Joseph said, nonplussed.

"Can you stand?"

"Yeah, thanks." Joseph looked at the two of them. "Done with your makeout session?"

They both paused, looked at him. Elliot turned to Skye. "You were worried about this twit?"

"Not cool, guys," Joseph said.

"Hey, unfair! You were too!"

"Nevertheless!" Elliot replied, took a breath. "Eh, you're right, Joseph, this is neither the time nor the place to have an argument of this scale. And it can probably wait. But next time, Skye?"

"Yeah?"

"Give me a little warning. Please?"

"Tch. Fine. I still say you should have known."

"Whatever, let's just _go_," Joseph said, exasperated.

"Fine, fine..." Skye said. "I agree, let's not argue now. Let's finish the last of these stupid dojo jerks and tell Montague the way's clear."

"Any idea where that last one is?" Elliot asked.

"Nope."

"Joseph?"

"I can tell you where we've been, but otherwise, no."

Elliot sighed. "Does _anyone_ have any idea where we're supposed to go next?"

It was at this point that the exit mouse decided to poke its head out of Joseph's pocket. It rose its hand, and its little arrow sign on a stick.

"What's he do?" Elliot enquired.

"Exit mouse," was Joseph's reply.

"No good right now then..." Elliot paused. "How many paths left?"

"Two, I think... Off the main hub."

Elliot paused. "All right. I have an idea."

As they reached the hub, Elliot pulled a quarter out of his pocket.

"We are not flipping a coin, Elliot," Skye remarked.

"Why not?"

"I think I may have a better way than that."

"What, are you gonna dowse? I thought that required a personal possession, or at least _some_ idea of the sort."

Skye held up several tufts of hair. "They're not very clean diggers."

Elliot blinked. "Okay, if you think this will work..."

"Need some rope."

Joseph pulled some out. "Here."

She split it into five, and tied them through the loop of the shuriken, each with a distinct tuft of hair. She then made all five hang loosely from her hands, so they could swing freely. "Give me a minute."

Elliot waved for her to continue, while Joseph tried to get it all recorded.

A moment passed... Another. Suddenly, all five shot up at once, each pointing a different direction.

"Well, we can discount the ones pointing down, we got those two," Elliot remarked.

"And the one pointing north is mine," Joseph noted.

"I guess the one sort of away from it that way is the one Skye wasted with the electricity. Maybe. Or maybe it's that one. Crap."

Joseph walked down, looking over the corridor- "Well, I know we've been this way. HUD says 93 correlation in feature."

Elliot sighed. "Okay. Got it. Hey Skye, you can stop now."

Skye didn't respond at first, her eyes seeming to stare into nothing.

"Oi! Skye! Wakeywakey!" Elliot snapped in front of her nose. Skye blinked, and the shuriken dropped.

"Huh? Ok, right. What have you found?"

"Last mole's this way," Elliot said, tilting his head.

Skye nodded. "Right. Coming." She still seemed a little dazed. And was that a hint of red?

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm _fine_, stop asking." Skye shook her head.

They saw it, down the corridor. Several things, like living rope, coiled about, starting to move towards them.

Joseph fired, turning one to ash pretty quickly; Skye shook her head, connecting two shuriken together and throwing them as one-

The expanding band of fire destroyed each and every one of the ropes. "Are we done here?"

"Not quite..." Elliot noted, as the mole came stomping towards them.

"Oh. That." Skye snapped. "Freeze."

The resultant cold snap ripped right past the mole's shield, blasting him back as the ice converted back to steam.

It swayed, for one brief moment, before falling over, slightly smoking.

Skye cracked her neck. "We're done, right?" She slowly recovered the knives, pocketing them again.

Both Elliot and Joseph looked in stark amazement.

"Well, come on, of course it's gonna be difficult if you keep attacking them on the physical plane..." She looked at them. "Well, you said you could get us out, Joseph?"

Joseph nodded, producing the exit mouse, who was none the worse for wear. It scampered off, and about five minutes later, came back, its sign pointing the way.

End- Elevation


	25. Twenty One

**Chapter 25- Twenty-one**

When they reached the surface, the sun was getting ready to set. The crowd had started to disperse for the night. The Montague brothers, however, were waiting for Elliot and crew.

Elliot stretched himself out- that shoulder still twinged a little, but would sort itself out by tomorrow, or so he hoped. "Hey, can we crash at your place tonight?"

"You kidding? Of course you can! Hell, son, you just earned our first haul."

Elliot paused. "First haul?"

"Yep. We'll let you know what we get."

"You must be the luckiest sonuvabitch I've ever met!" Montague shouted to wake Elliot up.

He blinked. "What the hell?" Elliot slowly sat up on the cot he'd been given.

"You," Montague pointed at Elliot, "must be the _luckiest_ son of a bitch-"

"Hey, don't talk about my mom like that."

"Luckiest son of _something_, then, 'cause I've never seen someone pull this off."

Later, breakfasted and coffeed, Elliot, Skye, and Joseph looked at Montague, who had several bags.

"Okay. First, we found ruby." He dumped out a small bag, which was full of a whole lot of raw, small red gems. "Ruby. In itself, pretty rare. But okay. We were expecting ruby. But wait, there's more."

Montague dumped out a larger bag. These gems were darker than the rubies, but still red. "We hit some kind of volcanic vent. And found garnet. So we dug a little deeper. And you, Mr. Fullerby, must be the luckiest man on the planet or _something_, because we then find_this_."

He pulled it out of his vest pocket, a black stone, bigger than his fist. "Twenty-five carats. Twenty-five _carats_ of _goddamn_ diamond. A man's lucky to see one of this size in his entire _life_! Never mind getting one of _motherfucking gem quality._ Oh, it'll cut down to around 15, 18 carats... That's _still_ six-digit territory, _easy_. This is the stuff the Prince of Monaco has_wet dreams_ about when he thinks of crown jewels."

Montague leaned forward. "And because I made a deal with you... Because I told you you'd get the first haul... Congratulations. You're millionaires. Now get the _hell_ out of my office before I change my mind."

Skye looked nonplussed. "But-"

By this point, Elliot and Joseph were herding the gems into bags, and Elliot had already pocketed the big gem. "Chill, Skye, don't get greedy." He nodded. "Let's roll."

"But-" Skye started after them.

Elliot didn't waste any time getting back to Chaos theatre, where he plunked the diamond down on the desk. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Twenty-five carats. Diamond. This pays for everything, doesn't it?"

"Well, now, I wouldn't say-"

"How long until your debts come in?" Joseph cut in.

"Hm? Wait, how did you-"

The next few minutes were a storm of negotiations between the flustered manager and Joseph, who Elliot noticed was cribbing law notes and market prices off of his glasses. The manager never stood a chance.

"The diamond, two garnets, and one of the rubies. You expunge the debt and sell those on the open gem market, fully certified conflict free by Kimberley Accord. And the Runaway Five do Blues Control, and are free to walk. Final offer."

The shellshocked manager could only dumbly nod.

"Could you answer, please? This is audio only."

"I agree."

"Were you aware this conversation, once we began negotiations, was recorded?"

"I was."

"Did you agree to have these negotiations recorded, and that this is a legally binding arbitration?"

"Y-yes."

"Excellent, that's all I needed to know. Stop recording." Joseph looked back to Elliot, who could only stare in stark amazement. "Your ball, Fearless Leader."

He shook himself out of it. "Get the Runaway Five in here, we need to tell them the news. Blues Control is _back on the air!_"

Skye looked nonplussed. "... It's not going to be broadcast, Elliot."

"Details!"

The Runaway Five, it turned out, had had the guards look for them as soon as Elliot had come back. "Hey there, man."

"Hey! Lucky! How's it? Gorgeous!" Elliot opened his arms to the two leading men. "Wolfgang! Johann! Rick! Uh... Drummer!"

"De name is Bob, mon."

"Dammit! How did I forget that? You're like the only one that doesn't have a crazy name!"

"S'okay, mon, lotta people forget. Even Lucky when he were_ naming the band_."

"Hey, I said I was sorry. Weren't we all drunk that night anyway?"

"And_I_ remember you agreeing with it, Bob!" Gorgeous chimed in.

"I thought we were talking about Johann! We only have to hire him again everywhere we go, we may as well make him a member of tha band!"

"Yeah, but Runaway Six doesn't have that same ring to it."

"What about Runaway Brothers?"

Elliot quietly cut in. "Uh, later for that guys. Also, remember what happened to Jefferson Starship."

"Ah, dey were a one-hit wonder anyway."

"Focus! Guys. You're out of hock. Debts are paid. The benefit can go through."

"You did it? You _actually_ did it?" Lucky paused, and put a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "You did somethin' really good for the kids, man. Wow. You got heart."

The scene from the Sound Stone reflected back on him. _Be a thoughtful, strong boy..._

He smiled. "Nah. I'm just a guy."

"Well, Blues Control is tonight. You've more than earned the tickets..."

Skye grinned. "Damn straight."

"So relax. We'll take you to meet some of the other blues bands-"

Elliot shook his head. "Ugh. No more walking, please!" He explained about the traffic jam and what they'd been doing up to that point- all on their own two feet.

"Those're some long feet."

"Yeah, so is there-"

"You kidding? We'll bring 'em to you! Find a nice seat."

Finding some comfortable seats, the three found themselves at a loss for what to do. "Damn. I haven't had nothing to do in way too long," Elliot noted.

"About two weeks, yeah," Skye added.

"I just got out of my semester. So it's no big for me."

"Yeah, I came right out of semester too. So what are we gonna do when we go home?" Elliot asked.

"Home?" Joseph asked.

"Yeah. I'm in for the eight Sanctuaries, but with the Runaway Five free, and Mani Mani out of the equation so far, there's not really any reason to keep you two and lo-"

"You're a moron, Elliot," Skye noted.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But give me one good reason why you two shouldn't take a bus home, courtesy of the Eagleland gubmint."

"Well, I stayed in for the long haul, Elliot," Skye replied.

"And I want to figure out this whole PSI thing," Joseph added.

"Okay. I'm at a loss to know what we're gonna do now, though. Watch Blues Control. I suppose I'd better get you guys those new clothes I promised you. Other than that, until we get some new leads, I think we're pretty free to relax."

Skye looked around as if expecting something. "Aw, now I'm going to be waiting for the boom to drop."

A distant crash was heard, and a stagehand shouted, "Sorry!"

"Happy now?" Joseph noted, before the Runaway Five returned.

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of shaking hands and congratulations and gratitude. Elliot didn't recognize half the people he met, and others he knew vaguely as really big artists in blues and jazz. The last of them was the headliner. Elliot smiled. "Man, it's great to meet you of all people."

"Eh, it's cool." He shrugged. "More importantly, what are you guys gonna do about Monotoli? You haven't solved the central problem."

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, but we're just three kids-"

"I'm not much older than you, man." Ken Do smiled. "And look at all this. Six bands, from across country, coming together to help; and this was just one guy saying, 'hey, this would be cool."

Skye paused. "Was that why you did _Shatner_?"

"Hey, don't knock Shatner," Joseph said. "Sure, he can't sing, but Ken was doing all the mixing. Decent stuff."

"Thanks, man." He nodded. "Thanks again for helping sponsor this, though. It means a lot. Feel free to help yourselves to the catering in the green- room...?" Ken smiled. "College kids."

A little bit later, catering came to shoo them off, which left everyone at loose ends until about 7 PM, when the concert proper started.

"Man, it's not even noon," Elliot noted, watching one of those stupid cat clocks with a wary eye.

Joseph shrugged. "We have six hours. I'd say it's time to do some research."

"On what?"

"A mall."

"Ah, that's right." Elliot paused. "Now how are we gonna find a mall?"

"I'm looking it up. Aaaand calling a taxi. Ooh, there's even a 'Not for Kids' section. Four stories."

"Four stories of _mall,_" Skye asked, "Or four stories of 'adult' section?"

"Of mall. And it's not an 'adult' section. Well, not _most_ of it, at any rate- it seems more like a small club and some restaurants."

"Oh."

"So how are we getting a taxi?" Elliot cut in.

"I called one up, it should be heading for the theatre now."

Elliot got an odd sense of foreboding as they walked out to the sidewalk to await the taxi.

He could hear it running hell-for-leather a bit before it rounded the curve at an insane clip, fishtailing madly and almost having five collisions as it cut through three lanes of traffic. It took him two seconds to realize it wasn't going to slow down as it came for them. Skye was already getting out of its way as it ran into the sidewalk and jumped the curb with what must have been a sickening lurch. Elliot scrambled into an alley-

But Joseph just stood there, confident, as it barreled right into him, sending him several feet into the pavement and in the short time he had to think, flattening himself to prevent getting run over.

Elliot didn't even now what he did- one second the taxi was braking for a 180, and then it was sailing through the air as a piece of sidewalk rose out from under it, rolling it over several times and wrapping it rather abruptly around a light pole.

Elliot quickly made a motion with his hand, and the sidewalk sank back into position, and his headache intensified. "Okay... Now what- Joseph!"

Joseph definitely looked the worse for wear, dazed, possibly had his lights put out. Elliot worked fast, trying to bring him back; some local police were showing up, other people pulling over.

"Shit..."

"What's going on here?" the local gendarmerie had gotten out of the car, and looked at the carnage.

"That taxi tried to run us down!" Elliot shouted. "Must have screwed up his driving or _something_ 'cause he proceeded to wrap himself around that light pole." He started to check that Joseph was still alive. He was actually hanging in there, thanks to the psychic meatballing Elliot had managed to do in the time between the crash and the cops showing up. Still, Elliot was desperately trying to get Joseph to _wake up_, sit up, do _something_...

Joseph's hand twitched, as he slowly started to sit up... And then immediately laid back down. "Ow. Headache."

Elliot felt Joseph's forehead.

Joseph blinked. "What's that gonna do?"

"Probably give me one hell of a headache, if you must know." Elliot tried to focus his mind, concentrate, pull himself together after this near shake with... With _death_. He shuddered, and got his mind back on the task at hand.

After a moment, and his head pounding with tension, Elliot paused. "How is it now?"

Joseph sat up. "Better. Thanks."

"All right. Need help up?" He blinked a moment. "Or should I call another cab?"

"Ha ha." Joseph leaned on Elliot's shoulder, and they lifted each other up.

Elliot rubbed his forehead. "Hey, you got any aspirin?"

"Sorry, didn't pack any."

"How about a sledgehammer?" Elliot replied.

"Fresh out."

"Aw, I'd only feel it once-"

"That's how it happened, officer," Skye was telling the policeman. "We were trying to get out of its way. I honestly don't know what the driver's problem was-"

The next hour was taken up in waiting for the witness statements, refusing medical advice, and getting a lift back to the hotel.

"Are you nuts, why'd you refuse the hospital?" Skye asked, once they were in the lobby again.

Joseph was first to respond. "I'm fine."

"No you're not-"

"I've got full faith that if you can cure a concussion you can get the rest of what's wrong with me."

Skye realized they were both dead serious. She reached into a pocket of her teddy bear backpack and handed over a small caramel. "Here. Found it back in the mole hole."

Elliot sucked on it as they relaxed on a couch. The headache started to dissipate, and presently he started to work on the less severe of Joseph's wounds.

After even that, Elliot laid back against the chair. "You know? We're in Fourside. We're on the Delta. The concert's in something like six or five hours. It's Saturday. We've had lunch. You know what I think?"

"What?" Skye asked.

"I think we should go to Creole Town, is what I think." Elliot started to get up.

"Okay, and how are we getting there?" Joseph responded, politely. "In case you hadn't noticed, the cabbies here don't like tourists."

"Fourside is known for its public transportation system. As well as a hell of a lot of jazz, and having perhaps the best annual party, _ever_." Elliot grinned. "Let's see if we can't find a bus schedule to Creole Town."

A quick inquiry at the front desk provided them with not only a schedule, but an entire touristy package, complete with brochure and a walking tour.

Surprisingly, this was largely uneventful, and several chotchkes, a camera, and several pictured that Elliot swore up and down to make several copies of, they found themselves, around five, near the Chaos Theatre again.

"Two hours left."

"Yep," Skye said.

"So what now?" Joseph asked. "We've done touristy things in our tatters."

"Well, let's get some dinner."

Skye looked completely nonplussed. "_Where_?"

Elliot shook his head. "Skye, where are we?"

"We're in Fourside."

"More specific, _where are we_?"

"Creole Town-"

Everyone looked at each other, and said, at the same time, "Overpriced soul food."

Elliot took a bow. "Thank you."

They adjourned to the nearest place they could find, and once seated, Elliot declared, "We have lived on cold pizza long enough, I say!"

Joseph cut in on this moment. "When have we had cold pizza?"

Elliot paused at this mental pothole, but quickly recovered. "Nevertheless!" He picked up the menu.

"Well, you're full of vim and vigor," Joseph noted dryly.

"Are you _kidding_? Two hours to perhaps the _greatest_ concert of this generation and we're having new strange things for dinner and I haven't been a tourist honest-to-gawd tourist since I was ten!" Elliot's grin was just a shade too wide. He looked back at the menu. "Speaking of, try and keep it under twenty bucks each."

They split a large order of crawdads, but about midway through that, their actual meals arrived.

Elliot blanched as he tasted his. "Hey, guys, is this jambalaya off? Or is it just me?"

The others took a careful taste. "Yeah, that's pretty bad," Joseph noted.

"Ugh. Yeah. This one's not a winner."

The waiter was suddenly back in short order. "Something up?"

"Is this poor to you?" Elliot asked.

"Hm? Oh, the jambalaya? We been getting complaints about that for a bit now..." He tasted it. "Oof! Yeah, that's off. Sorry about that; I'll see if I can't beat the kitchen into reasonableness."

The downside was that they had to all share the entreés. The upside was that they didn't have to pay for the jambalaya after an apology from a very embarrassed chef who admitted the thing was a disaster, and a promise that he'd _never_ cook it that way again.

Nevertheless, the meal was very filling, such as it was; they were finished with it inside an hour and having to share the meals weren't so bad and left no leftovers.

"Okay, so now what?" Joseph asked as they sort of ambled out the walk towards the Chaos Theatre.

"Seating. Seating _now_, before Ken Do's fangirls show up."

"Maybe, Elliot, but isn't it a little late for that?" Skye asked.

"True, they do tend to show up within five minutes of his appearance front or backstage." He shrugged. "It can't be helped, we need to get seated."

"So what I don't get is how you got to be such a big fan of the Runaway Five," Joseph asked. "Were they ever in Onett?"

"Well, no, but they used that new file sharing thing to their advantage. I got a few songs, special ordered their albums." Elliot shrugged. "I suppose I should get an eye patch, but..."

"You use filesharing?" Joseph asked.

"Yeah, got it through Asimov, what's the big deal?"

"I just wouldn't have expected it."

"Well, let's see if we can't get through the line..." Skye noted with a hint of impatience.

There were some faces Elliot vaguely recognized, but there were also more fans than faces. In a way, it was like being home.

Once inside, he made sure to get himself an actual shirt that had been printed up for the occasion and horribly overpriced. As everything else had been so far in this venture to Fourside, he didn't mind it much.

The three found their seats and tried to relax prior to the start. Skye fidgeted, a little uncomfortable. Elliot looked like he wanted earplugs, then picked them out and stuck them in, complete with little Creole Town logo. Joseph fiddled with a bit of circuitry, looking it over, a sine wave playing across his glasses.

Elliot realized something, asking the two of them to keep the seat while he went outside for a moment.

A courtesy phone later, the hotel they had been staying at confirmed that yes, they still had the suites, and were you checking in? You'd be showing up late? Very good sir, as to the matter of your bill- You'll be staying longer, of course? No, sir, we don't take rubies as an acceptable form of payment, sir is having a joke, yes? Hahaha. Yes, we can let one of the suites go. Already done, but you _will_still- Ah, very good sir.

Elliot hung up with a slight curse. That was a very expensive proposition. At least thirteen hundred, quite possibly more.

He tapped Joseph's shoulder as he sat down, and handed him the ATM card. "Here. What's the balance?"

"Hm? Let me check..." Joseph's eyes unfocused as a stream of information started to pass by his eyes. "Well... Dammit, you didn't set up an online account, you'll have to check with a bank branch."

"Can't you-"

"Not without your SSN, and I'm not touching that with a ten-meter cattle prod."

Elliot grimaced, looking at his last receipt.

And then he looked again. That couldn't be right. That was... _way_ too much. Even if he was the only field investigator. Well, at least he didn't need to worry overmuch about the hotel rooms... But now he wondered if he needed to do something else.

The lights dimmed for a moment, then raised again. Elliot shut up and sat down, while other people looked desperately for their seats.

At around 7:10, the lights finally dimmed, and the first act took the stage officially. Nine people, for women, five guys. No instruments. And yet, one took the drum set already set up. Apparently some recognized them, because when they shouted, at once, "HOW'S YOUR MOUTH ROLLIN' TODAY?" It got quite a reaction.

It was, admittedly, college kid music; a capella blues combined with the minimal effect of the cymbals and hats. Elliot found the tunes catchy, but couldn't get behind the lyrics, which seemed off.

Joseph blinked. "Wow. Didn't know people did this sort of thing."

Skye just stood there, nodding, smiling, and bobbing her head to the music, occasionally singing along to Elliot's dismay, until the set ended with something in Japanese or something, Elliot couldn't tell.

"We are 'A Bronx Tale', thank you! Good night!" The cheers were much louder as they left the stage.

In any case, the cheers were much louder as they said their goodnights. "They have a good future, but need to stay away from the obscure references," Elliot said, as a final word.

"Aw, come on. 'R U O.K.' was pretty damn cool," Skye said. "And they clearly spoke to the audience."

"Yeah, but wasn't that a rap song or something? What was with that?" Elliot shrugged. "Any case, take a leak if you need."

"I like them," was Joseph's only thought on the subject, before leaving to the most obvious place.

The next set Joseph didn't quite arrive in time for the woman, dressed in a black satin gown, and straight blonde hair that didn't quite reach her waist. She didn't look like much, compared to her glam-rocked out piano player. Almost shyly, she walked up to the mike, clearing her throat a little away from it before speaking. "How is everyone doing tonight?"

There was an unidentifiable _something_ in the way she said it that made almost _everyone_ cheer for her; not doing so might almost be likened to kicking a puppy.

And then she bowed, said, "I'm Venus." and cued the piano player.

After the intro, there was no mistake about why she had been invited to perform, nor about her stage name; she could have been wearing a turtleneck sweater and a _very_ severe dress and that voice would still have reached down through your psyche and disconnected your thought process. And with that gown, well, it came as no surprise that the audience really got behind it after that first song.

From pure sex, it turned to joy, then anger, then a brand of melancholy as she worked through the songs in the set, each in turn just as powerfully emotive that almost everyone in the audience, even Elliot, was gaping.

The exception, surprisingly, was Skye, who wore a look of confused recognition, until she saw Elliot's mouth, hanging open. She lightly batted him in the back of the head. "You really _do _have a thing for blondes, don't you?"

Elliot recovered from his stupor, looking out over the audience. "You're kidding, right?"

Joseph nodded. "Yeah, she's really good. Besides, I don't think you're allowed to hit him like that until he's _actually_ your boyfriend."

Skye punched him in the arm. "Ow!"

Elliot, still looking at the stage, gave a small golf clap, which Skye gave a snide look. He immediately stopped and started innocently twiddling his thumbs.

Skye, meanwhile, turned back to the woman on stage, watching intently, brow knotted, until after a moment, she nodded. "I'm certain of it. I know her."

"Hm? You're kidding," Elliot responded.

Skye shook her head. "That's Michelle. Wow. She's come pretty far."

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah. We were... _really_... Good friends."

Elliot paused. "I'm just going to take that at face value."

"Really? Then you don't want to know if she's a natural blonde?"

Another, longer pause. Elliot's brow knotted in confusion. "But you couldn't possibly know that. Not unless you've-" A thought occurred. His eyes slowly glazed over.

Skye smirked. "Something wrong?"

"Hard to say. I think my cerebellum just fused."

"Excellent..." Her grin widened, as she tapped her fingers together. "Soon I will be able to control your mind..."

Elliot backed away a little. "That's creepy."

"I_know..._ But don't worry, the procedure is absolutely painless."

"Right. I'm going to the bathroom."

The lights had dimmed a little when Elliot arrived back in his seat after a moment of swimming through the crowd.

And then the Runaway Five walked on, in identical black suits and ties, all wearing sunglasses.

The drummer tapped out a final test, and gave a thumbs up. Gorgeous and Lucky stepped up to the mike and shouted to the crowd:

"Hey, Gorgeous! That chick was pretty awesome, what do you guys think?" This got a cheer from the audience, of course.

"You know, Lucky, I think there's only one way we could possibly top that one."

"How's that?"

"We're doing _that_ one."

"_That_ one? All right. Ready?"

The band and the audience responded. "One two three hit it!"

They didn't bother to try to top Venus with emotion; it would have been impossible. Instead, they did so with energy, bouncing, frenetic, blue, and bright. Elliot barely realized they had stopped playing until Skye poked him in the shoulder, and he gave way.

The next group Elliot recognized almost on sight. "Muffin. Holy_crap! _He got _Muffin_!"

Most of the rest of the crowd seemed to get it too, despite Joseph's incomprehension.

The singing was almost spoken, somewhat sarcastic, and yet had a smooth style that was hard to refuse. Through one song in particular, 'Short Skirt/Long Jacket', both Joseph and Elliot were smirking at Skye, then looked at each other and nodded, while Skye just raised an eyebrow at them.

After the set, each of them looked at each other. "Bathroom."

It took them a total of about twenty minutes to get back, by which time they all realized who was on stage. "Shatner," They all said at once.

At least this explained the huge line at the bathroom- nobody minded missing the start of this set. Admittedly, it was the awesome remixed version of Shatner. It was still Shatner.

But then came the main event.

Ken Do was not much older than Elliot, but more importantly, he had a voice that could melt glass. "Hey, everyone, I wanna say something for a minute. Without you, it couldn't have been possible, But I wanna take some time right now, to thank three special people in the second row. Monotoli- you guys heard of him? He tried to stop tonight's show. But these three? These three, they stopped that dead in its tracks. Let's put those spots down."

Elliot winced in the glare, looking around. Was he supposed to say something?

"Monotoli went too far in his profit-mongering this time. Will you let it happen again?"

"NO!" The audience response was immediate and rivaled anything before it.

"Then let's rock this city to it's roots!" The audience's cheer started up, washing waves over Elliot as he realized at least half of them were cheering for _him_.

After a few of his old standbys, Ken stopped. "Hey. Everyone. Let's get all the other musicians up here. Everybody. Come on back, I got a jam session for you. Interested?"

Everyone started clambering on to the stage- it could barely hold them as set up, but a curtain rolled back a bit. A few were carrying their own instruments, and somewhere a second keyboard appeared for Venus's pianist.

"All right, kids, here's the deal. I have this melody. A song I been keeping to myself for a long time. Goes a little something like this:

"_Take a melody_

_Simple as can be_

_Give it some words and_

_A sweet harmony..._"

Elliot looked on in total awe as Ken went through the song, and something in him wanted to present the broken melody of the Sound Stone as a powerful counterpoint, but the notes just wouldn't come from his harmonica.

And then Ken looked at everyone. "Got it, everyone?"

Everyone agreed.

And then Ken started it again.

And it _swung_.

The concert let out around one AM, as promised, but Elliot and the others were still up beyond belief. "So now what? Just head for the hotel?"

"Are you kidding?" Elliot replied. "Do you _really_ think you're gonna be able to sleep after that?"

"Well, no..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, het's find something to do."

"That place looks open," Skye said, heading towards it.

The bouncer was at least as broad as the door he was guarding, and certainly didn't look like he'd take the time to suffer fools. In fact... He looked more like he would pity them.

"Mr. T is a bouncer?" Elliot asked.

"Shu'up, foo'. I need to see some ID."

Elliot looked left. Looked right. Smiled just a little bit, and waved his left hand as he said, "You don't need to see our IDs."

"I don't need to see yo IDs."

"We're on the guest list," Elliot continued, with the same trick.

"You foo's are on the guest list."

"Move along."

"Move along."

Twenty seconds later, out of the door man's earshot, Skye said, "I can't believe that worked."

"Honestly, neither can I," Elliot replied.

Finally, Joseph recovered from his stark, slightly gibbering amazement. "... Okay, the Jedi mind trick? That's a _little over the top, _don't you think?"

"Got us in, didn't it?" Elliot shrugged, looking over the menu. "Always wanted to try some beer. I don't care what Mom said, Sharps is not beer and we all know it."

"I dunno, if we're caught drunk-" Skye started.

"Aw, come on, Skye," Elliot interrupted. "We just got past that bouncer lickety-split. We could probably get away with murder in this town right under the cops' noses." He blinked. "Was that a camera...?"

"Where?" Skye said, looking around nervously.

"Camcorder, other side of the room," Elliot shrugged. "Too loud for him to have heard us."

Presently a waitress came by, Joseph ordered a coke when he discovered there were no Winters brews. Elliot picked something at random that was domestic, but Skye? Skye looked at the 'esoteric' section and pulled out:

"I think this 'electric lemonade' thing sounds interesting."

The waitress nodded. "Okay."

After a couple minutes of waiting for something else to happen, the drinks arrived. Elliot's and Joseph's were relatively tame, but Skye's looked like an odd mixture of flourescent blue, ridiculous glassware, and one of those funky swirly straws. It smelled like mouthwash, and was about the size of Elliot's pint glass.

Skye shrugged, held her nose, and started to drink it through the straw. Partly because it tasted like the aforementioned mouthwash, and partly because she was trying to keep an eye on that camcorder, she was trying to power through it as much as possible.

She didn't feel any different. The drink was more than done. So Skye looked for the waitress, and said, "Do you have anything that tastes... _less_ like I just tried to down a bottle of rubbing alcohol?"

"Well, there's always rum and coke..."

"I'll take that."

Elliot had not yet halfway finished his first beer. Quite frankly, he thought it tasted like crap. Unlike Skye, he didn't power through it, instead taking the time to savor the hatred. Nevertheless, Skye's quick reactions had set off several alarm bells in his head.

About ten minutes after this, the rum and coke gone, Elliot had finished his first beer, and had stopped because it had given him a slight headache.

But Skye? Skye looked like she'd just been hit in the face with something invisible and/or unsettling. "Um. I think I need to go to... Place. Bathroom. Yeah. I'll head out that way."

Elliot didn't see her again for the better part of half an hour, at which point he stood up. "Come on, there's no way anybody could take this long to go to the bathroom."

Joseph followed him warily, looking around, discovering that there were several ladies on the bar in the back. They looked pretty nice, as women went.

"Hey, guys, thank these ladies for putting that water to good use, eh?" an older man, on stage, shouted through a megaphone.

Joseph tapped Elliot on the "Hey, check the stage. Didn't know there was a contest going on."

A few cheers fell through the crowd. The MC clearly didn't think there was enough noise, so he added, "And honestly, what better use can there be?"

Elliot, who had been out of tune with the world for the past few minutes, looked up. Odd, there was a pretty nice selection heading off-stage, though some seemed a little camera-shy.

The rambunctious one punctuated the last sentence of the MC with a wild cheer. Wow. She looked really good-

Oh. Oh, _crap_. Elliot quickly dragged Joseph behind him, cutting a swath through the crowd. "Find her sweatshirt. _Quick._"

"What? What's going on?"

"Just_do_ it, we're out of here! And see if you can get the tape, too."

Suddenly it all clicked in Joseph's head. "Oh. _Shit!_"

Joseph split off from Elliot, heading in the direction of some guys who looked as official as clubs ever got. Elliot, meantime, picked up a pink hoodie that felt like the culprit- and a quick check of the forward pocket reveled it to be the case. "Damn, doesn't she_ever _travel without these...?" He quickly pocketed the knives in his jacket.

Skye arrived from behind him. "Hey! You! Person! Yeah, over here..."

Elliot turned around. "Hi, Skye."

"Wow, you know my name." She squinted. "An look kinna... Familiar..."

Elliot averted his eyes. "Yeah, I probably do. Now, could you put this on, please?" He handed over the hoodie, and snatched her beret from the floor nearby.

Skye nodded, pulling on the hoodie after a moment, and haphazardly sticking the beret on her head at an odd angle. Elliot adjusted it for her. "'Nk you..."

"Let's get you out of here, huh?"

"Yeah... They's liminated me... 'M I that bad looking?"

"No comment."

"Aw, BS, Mr... What was yer name again? Ness!" She nodded, looking him over. "Y'gotta say. Not bad yourself..."

"Now I don't think I have to tell you anything, Skye."

"Yeeees you doooooo..."

"All right," Elliot said, gritting his teeth, "You were positively smoking up there. If I were to follow my gut right now, I mean honestly, we'd _both_ regret it in the morning, so we're going to shut up now and wait for Joseph, okay?"

"'Kay." She hung on his shoulder. "You're warm."

Elliot grit and bore it until Joseph arrived shortly afterward, having stowed several DV tapes about his person. "I've got them, let's get out of here. Now. Before they're missed."

"Not a moment too soon... Here, help me with this."

Joseph helped shoulder Skye. "Hey, two guys. Not bad..."

"You see what I had to deal with? Let's get while the getting's good."

Joseph couldn't agree more as they made their way out into the Creole Town streets. In the slightly better light, Skye's mind seemed to focus a little.

A few blocks later, headlights approached them. Elliot ducked his head. "Shit, cop car cop car cop car," he whispered to the others.

"Wheeee! Cop car! Yay flashy lights!"

Elliot prayed the cop hadn't just heard that.

At least they were some part of the way to the hotel now. "Should I risk calling a cab, Elliot?"

"After the _last_ time? No. No cabs. Cabs are bad in this town." Elliot shook his head.

"But-"

"No cabs!"

"Don't feel good..." And with no further warning, Skye proceeded to puke on everyone's shoes.

Morning arrived, curtains drawn over the room, and Skye slowly came to. The first thing she noticed was that she was still clothed. Considering she didn't remember last night, this was a good thing. Sort of. And had her beret, even. But her knives were missing. Her neck hurt. And... Was she holding on to someone's arm? And... Didn't she have a bra last night after leaving the concert?

Okay, first things first. The arm was still clothed. Short sleeve shirt. Her head hurt. A lot.

She couldn't remember anything past going to the ladies'. And she definitely couldn't remember arriving anywhere with any guy. She risked opening an eye. Black hair. Did she know a guy with black hair? Vaguely. Pretty sure. His arm sure was nice though. Wait. Black hair. Oh, _no_. Please no.

All this eventually made itself known in a piteous moan.

Elliot, looking a little more tired than Skye was, noted, "Can I move now?"

Another piteous moan, followed by her slowly opening her eyes more. Wait, was she damp? She slowly looked under her hoodie. This was not her shirt.

Oh, gods, no. No... She slowly picked herself up off the couch, trying to get the crick out of her neck.

Joseph looked in. "Is she-"

Elliot nodded, motioned for him to come in.

He'd apparently slept better than either of them, and was preparing something in the suite kitchen. A glass of vile-looking stuff was thrust into her hand.

"Whaaaa?"

"Pedialyte with seltzer," Joseph said, keeping his voice down. "Drink it, it'll help."

It tasted a little sour, and moreover of fake lemon, but other than that didn't seem too bad. "What happened last night...?"

"A lot. Largely involving us trying to get you home. Well, for a given value of 'home'-"

"Yes, thank you Joseph, I understand," Skye said. "Wasn't there some cute guy I was with?"

Elliot carefully schooled his expression before responding. "I think he got scared off when you puked."

Another groan, this time as she started to vaguely picture something. "Is this why I lost the knives?"

"Partly. Partly you were about to try some stunt, I thought better of it before you could hit a cat."

Skye took stock again, just to make sure. "What happened to my bra?"

"We're... not sure," Joseph said carefully. "But wet t-shirt contests tend to be braless."

Skye ran this through her mental parser and got a read error. "... I what."

Joseph paused. "You entered a wet t-shirt contest."

Skye looked about ready to explode. "I... Did... _what_?"

In a conciliatory gesture, Elliot added, "We got the tapes-"

"_YOU WHAT_?" Skye winced at her own yelling.

"No no, we got all the tapes, confiscated them!" Elliot explained.

Skye rubbed her head. "Do I want to see the tapes?" She paused. "I suppose I do... But _not _with you two in the room."

"Easily done," Elliot said. "We'll let you recover."

"Can't you just heal this away?"

"Actually, no, I can't. I discovered _that_ last night too."

Skye groaned. "So what was on the agenda today, Elliot?"

"Shopping. I think we'll all recover from last night first though."

Skye nodded glumly. "You'll leave the tapes, right?"

Joseph put them quietly on the small endtable near the couch.

"Thank you..."

"I thought that guy was pretty cute, too..." Skye said, woefully. And then the circumstances of this morning came back to her. "Oh,_ick_."

Elliot couldn't resist, evil gleam in his eyes. "Tell me again how cute he was?"

"Oh,_ICK!_" Skye winced again at her own voice. She picked up a knife. "Out! Now!"

Elliot knew not to push his luck, but was laughing all the way back to his suite.

Sitting alone in her suite, Skye started to review the tapes, and said, "Never again."

Elliot and Joseph arrived in their suite, looked at each other, nodded, and said, together, "Never again."

About two hours later, Skye called Elliot over the room phone. "All right, let's see what we can do about getting over this fiasco."

They met in the lobby, whence they took the bus to the Fourside Four Story Mall.

"Okay. Four stories of _awesome_. But. First things first." Skye looked at them. "I am going underwear shopping. You are not following me."

"Perfectly reasonable," Elliot replied, looking around for some replacement things in the RC Nickel where they had entered. "I need to find an ATM. We're pretty much buying new wardrobes for everyone, right?"

The others nodded. "Just making sure." Cash parceled out, they made a note to meet in the food court in an hour for brunching. "We're looking for quality, _not_ fashion. f you get good stuff and we have money left over, we'll get food and _then _see about _maybe_ something stylish. Or maybe just saving our money for ordnance." Elliot shrugged.

"Anyway. Clothes. Not following me."

"Understood." Elliot watched her go.

Joseph looked at Elliot. "Are you going to tell her we..?"

"I think she's trying to not think about it. I humbly submit we should encourage this."

"Why?"

"On the grounds that not doing so will get us killed in horrible, horrible ways."

Joseph looked at the logic. "Okay, that works."

"Might I suggest we get armed?" Elliot looked at the hardware section they had found themselves in. Lengths of chain... And a weight.

"Don't you use staves?"

Elliot smirked, looked around for security guys in earshot. "Yeah, but this way, it won't break." He hugged the construction before stowing it in his backpack. "I shall call it Mr. Links."

"Did you name your teddy bears, too?"

"I name everything, haven't you been keeping up? Harmonicas, cars, anything I expect to last more than three days. Hell, even this leather jacket's named something. I think I might even have a name for my sunglasses."

Joseph looked at the skull pattern on the temple. "Let me guess, something like 'Tron'?"

"Actually, I named 'em Chuck."

"Chuck?" Joseph blinked. "Oh, _gods_, that's _horrible_. Don't you have any respect for _anyone_?"

"No one famous at any rate." Elliot shrugged. "It's not like they all can't take a joke."

"Debatable."

Around this time, they'd trolled around the first floor, and arrived at a spot that seemed out of place. It was full of various olive drab items, straps, backpacks, and other such items. All of it looked engineered less for look than utility.

The top marquee was simple writing, no logo. "Old Soldier, huh?" Elliot noted.

Joseph shrugged. "Worth a look..."

A few minutes later, they met back up, after looking through the shop. "What, none of the small arms tickled your fancy?"

"Nah," Joseph replied, "I'm good. The ALICE was worth it though, it has an existence pack."

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, I noticed yours was getting kind of careworn." He took off his miner's helmet one last time, instead placing what was marked a PASGT on the counter, with the associated armor.

The purchases rung up, Elliot started working out how to don the armor.

Which is when the shopkeeper rose an eyebrow. "You boys expecting trouble?"

Elliot looked nervous. "Uh, no, sir. I just want to make sure I get it right if or when I _do_."

He softened a little. "That helmet's strapped wrong. You'll get your forehead holed like that. More down."

He shifted it down over his eyebrows. "Like this?"

"Yeah. And the booklet's in the pocket."

Elliot found it after a bit of searching, and read it to himself, adjusting the vest as necessary. He then removed it and started to review his wardrobe. As usual, everything but the lucky shirt and his jacket were nearly ruined.

He needed better socks...

At the aforementioned time, they arrived at the food court. Skye seemed spectacularly excited about something, so much so that she was incoherent, at least, to Elliot. "Whoa, slow down, what are you talking about? You've slipped into some odd dialect that I don't think anyone knows."

Joseph stood up. "Just because you don't grok it, Elliot... Oh, never mind. Find me by the RC Nickel when you two are done looking around."

With that, Skye started to tug Elliot by the arm, which didn't even start as he stood up, taking his amazing cinnamon bun with him.

Geeks are a funny breed. Unlike body builders, or thugs, or coppers, there are few easy ways to identify them by look alone. Woe betide the person who thinks a geek _is_ the pimply face, the rolls of fat, the lack of hygiene, because the geek is not attached to these characteristics. Sometimes, the geek is some blonde-haired, brown-eyed angel who appears perfectly normal- if a bit annoying. But that spark is there, waiting.

And if that spark waits long... sometimes, it's a lot like watching a dam burst.

Which was why Elliot was now, ever so slowly, lowering his sunglasses. And his eyes had the barest hint of a twitch. "No, you can't have the Raccoon City PD costume."

"But-"

"No."

"But Joseph looks like-"

"Doesn't matter."

"But what about-"

"We've already had to deal with _one_ zombie infestation. That costume is begging for trouble."

"Fine. But I'm getting _something_ out of this shop, Elliot." Skye went back into the changing rooms.

Elliot sighed. "And she gets on _my_ case about the Runaway Five... Gods above."

A few minutes later, Skye came out wearing the top of a gi and dark blue bike shorts with a red bandanna tying back her hair. The gi was sleeveless, and her forearms, once unexposed, seemed crisscrossed with white lines. Elliot looked at it. "This ought to be interesting."

Skye shrugged. "Just look good in it, that's all."

"Of course, the drawback is that it also shows off your scars."

Skye looked down. "True."

"You know, you still owe me an explanation for them."

"You'll get it in a day. Two at the outside." Skye went into the changing rooms.

While she was thus occupied, Elliot looked around the shop, taking in all the various improbable costumes that seemed to be everywhere, like Halloween had come several months early.

People paid for this?

When next Skye came out, Elliot held back his laugh. She had tied back her hair with a red ribbon, and somehow it had curled considerably. But the dress- Oh, the _dress_-

It was pink. Frilly pink, all around, with a white lace collar and all sorts of little designs on it... Elliot couldn't help it anymore, and started laughing his head off.

"_What?_"

"I- I'm sorry, really I am... It just seems so _odd _for you to wear something so... well..." Elliot waved at it and started laughing again.

"I'll have you know I wore something like this almost every day when I was younger!"

Elliot sobered. "You kid."

"You know I don't kid about the past, Elliot."

This made him blink a little. "Wow. Was this your parents' decision or yours?"

"Does it matter? But... You're right. It's not me _anymore_, is it?" With that, she went back into the rooms.

The clerk tapped him on the shoulder. "I just hope you know I'd kill for a girlfriend like that."

Elliot chuckled. "No you wouldn't, man. Trust me on this one. But if you want her so bad, go get her- she's unattached."

"You're kidding, right? She's got you _shopping_, man."

"Believe it or not, we three- there's another shopping over at RC Nickel- all lost most of our wardrobes in the Dusty Dunes Desert. I'm the most flush, so, well..." Elliot shrugged. "Least I can do, really. I got them into this mess."

"Whatever you say, mister."

"Aw, come on. I get enough of that from our third, I don't need it from you."

"And he's right," Skye's voice came from the changing rooms. "I_am_ unattached."

Elliot nodded at him.

Unexpectedly, Skye spoke again. "And don't think I don't see you encouraging him. Anyway, I'm ready again."

His response stopped cold as she stepped out of the dressing room. The first thing he noticed was the legs. The dress emphasized them, cut nearly to her hip, showing off the curve of her body with gold filigree that slowly wound its way up the dress. And then there were the wings. A purplish color, so deep it might be called black, and huge- she almost seemed dwarfed by them.

After his shock wore off, his first words were, "I would have thought you hated dresses like that."

"It's not the dress, so much as the character. I like this one. She gets introduced by _schooling_ a group of thugs, then sending herself off to save her sister and _then_ pounding the gang that took her into dust. Besides-" and then she smiled- "I always suspected that my legs were very eye catching."

Elliot turned to the clerk, who was very nearly drooling. "Ah. I see."

"Don't think I didn't catch you looking me over, Elliot."

Elliot held back a sigh. "...Whatever."

"Actually, we have a costume for that-"

"NO!" Both of them said at once.

"So you want to get this, huh? It doesn't seem very practical..." Elliot noted.

"You have to start paying us a stipend sometime, consider this my back pay."

Elliot considered. "You have an excellent point. All right, I'll allow it- granted that you've actually managed to get comfortable other clothing."

"Yep."

"Good." It was at this point, while Skye was changing back into her street clothes, that Elliot started peeking through the racks. Something inevitably caught his eye. "Huh. No way."

He pulled it out. It looked like his lucky shirt had _used_ to look- blue and yellow horizontal stripes, strong, and now, a touch small on his frame. He looked for a slightly larger size, and found one. He smiled, taking it to the counter. "Not one word."

"Nah, it's cool. Not many people know about that character. Want the hat, too?"

"Character? Uh, no, I'm good." He slipped the money over.

"And the Nina costume..." A few dollars was all the change left from the thousand dollars Elliot had taken out to start, once everyone was back together.

He sighed. "Okay, well, that didn't go through _everything_, at least, just what I thought we'd spend. Good to remember for later."

"So, we have everything?" Skye said.

"Yeah."

"Including new fancy manners of whacking people over the head?"

"Yep."

"And Thoth?" Skye asked.

"You have your harmonica?" Joseph asked. "Rock."

"Yeah, well, I'm not playing until Skye gets an acoustic guitar-"

The plucking and straining of tuning a guitar. "You were saying, Elliot?"

"You didn't, Skye." Elliot rubbed his eyes. "Please tell me you didn't."

"Too bad, I did."

Elliot shrugged. "Okay, well, that's one problem solved at least. But seriously, unless you're willing to lug that thing all over, leave the guitar behind."

"Not until you play."

"Fine. Do you know... Run-Around?"

"Is that some kind of joke at my expense? Because I swear, Elliot-"

And then the lights cut out, and the escalator stopped, flinging Elliot and Joseph forward. A shadow moved in the darkness. Elliot flailed at it wildly, but it was already gone.

The PA must have been on a different circuit. A few moments of groping around later, a few lights came on, more enshrouding the mall in predawn than making any sort of real illumination.

"Elliot Fullerby and party, please report to the manager's office, fourth floor. Damn, that actually hurt..."

Elliot only saw one shadow near him. "Stand up, would you?"

It was Joseph.

And Skye was nowhere to be found. "Crap."

END Twenty-One


	26. Wandering Star

**Chapter 26- Wandering Star**

_"Crap_!" Elliot scrambled for the chain in his backpack, letting it rest at his side, waiting for something to crawl out of the darkness as his eyes adjusted to the dimming light.

CRACK! Something burst into several pieces as Joseph slung some kind of rifle around. "Let's go!"

"When did you get a rifle?"

"Never mind that now, get your armor on. I'll cover you."

People were starting to flood out as animated objects harried them; that two or three people were staying behind and doing something about it did nothing to rally them, though a few got a good look at them before running.

CRACK CRACK CRACK! Elliot hurried with his armor, strapping in the helmet just as Joseph put the gun down. "Need to reload!"

Elliot picked up the chain with both his hands and his mind. "Okay. I'll wait for you. Tell me when you're ready to go."

The sound of a _click_ as Joseph fed in a new power pack. "Okay."

"Heading up. Cover me." With a nod, both of them ran up the escalator to the second floor, picking off the electric guitar at the top, then proceeding to smash a few cups of espresso before being able to reach the next up escalator.

"Are you sure we shouldn't take the elevator?" Joseph asked.

"Yes. Remember Ghostbusters?"

"Ah. Right."

"Ready!" Elliot swiped aside three of the objects guarding the way- Joseph laid down a full auto burst, which blew them apart.

Again, the PA rang out. "Mr. Fullerby, you and your party are required for an urgent conference..."

"How much ammo?"

"Two and a half packs. Seems like about 30 rounds to a pack, so..."

"All right. Know the recharge?"

"Not yet."

"Crap." Elliot nodded. "Have anything else to conserve ammo?"

"Well, there's the grenades..."

He sighed. "Forget it. Come on."

The fourth floor. "How long until the cops arrive?"

"Already here. Calling in SWAT."

"Shit. How _long_?"

"We have a few minutes, they need to be called up."

"Do we have news coverage?"

"Yeah, but nobody's inside yet. Why are you distracting yourself?"

Elliot took a breath, calmed himself. The clock was ticking, in more ways than one. "Tick tock, Joseph. Time is of the essence."

Joseph paused to look at him. "You sound unhinged."

The most evil grin Elliot could muster started to creep across his face. "Good."

The pendulum of Mr. Links started to swing, not in response to Elliot's arm, but as if it had a life of its own, snapping this way and that like a wild animal on a leash. Joseph took this as an ill omen combined with the grin, which persisted.

What manner of man had become his family?

The chain coiled itself as Elliot took deep, calming breaths, approaching the door marked 'Manager's office'. It looked normal. Stout, white. And with one of those little burnished steel-looking paddle handles.

Elliot rolled his neck for a moment. "Do you want to test it? Or should I?"

Joseph nodded to let Elliot go ahead and test it.

WHAM. Elliot kicked at the door. It held firm. WHAM. The steel started to bend. WHAM. A little more give, in the shape of his new leather shoes.

With a final BOOOM, the door burst off its hinges, falling lifeless to the floor. "Tested. And found wanting."

A slightly slimy sort of voice in the darkness responded, a little hurt, "You know the door was unlocked, right?"

Elliot gave him a glare. This wasn't the glare he had given Skye, or even Joseph. This was not a glare that screwed around. It was a glare that said that he knew full well that that violence was probably unnecessary, but that the person on the end of this glare fully deserved unnecessary violence. This was a glare that people used before they killed something. "No."

"Get in here."

Eyes narrowed, Elliot stepped in, let his eyes adjust to the dim light.

Normal words cannot describe what appeared in front of Elliot, but if you wanted to make a start, you could say that it looked something like an octopus, or a squid. Or maybe something like a crustacean, almost, only there wasn't much shell, and more like hundreds of little bits of sinew; the slime that covered it seemed to also extrude from something that might charitably be called a mouth, but only because food went in and sound of a sort came out. "I hope you're going to pay for that."

Elliot slammed one fist into what felt like solid oak. It _cracked._ "Where is she." It was _not _a request.

"I don't have to tell you anything," it replied.

Elliot slammed his other fist _through _the table. "Where. Is. Skye."

Elliot had not changed his death glare the entire time he had been talking to this thing, completely unabashed, hand still in the hole it had made in an inch of solid oak.

"Okay, now that's pushing things a little too far..." It pulled out a small beam pistol-

And was thrown across the room by Mr. Links before it could open fire, sending the beam wide as Joseph started to pump bolts into it, before pausing and starting to fiddle with his backpack.

Elliot, forced to build himself a shield as the monster opened fire on him, wondered what the hell Joseph was up to that could possibly be so important.

When Joseph shouted "GRENADE!" that concern went immediately under the table, along with the rest of Elliot.

Joseph took cover behind a wall as the grenade went off, only able to watch as the wall opposite him splattered with odd green ichor.

Elliot lifted his eyes to the carnage the grenade caused, absent-mindedly closing the wounds from the fragmentation even as he walked up to the foul thing in front of him. "Last chance. Where. Is. Skye?"

"Too late... Monotoli... You will all... Die..." And with that, life faded from its odd, stalked eyes.

Elliot paused, took a deep breath, and looked at Joseph once again, and became... Utterly confused.

What Joseph had used appeared to be some kind of revolver, writ large, and given a rifle stock. Elliot found he had to ask. "What is that thing?"

Joseph shrugged. "Grenade launcher."

"Where were you hiding it?"

"In the ALICE."

"But... That thing's bigger than the backpack is!"

"Well, that's the thing... You see, space isn't really three dimensional. It's not a cube. It's more like this spacey-wacey sponge of... Stuff-"

"Okay, never mind, I don't want to know anymore. Let's see what we can dig up about Monotoli, see what this is all about."

"What, other than that he has a veep with a personal vested interest in screwing you over?"

"No, no, Pokey's a red herring! If he were the one behind this it would have been 'Minch', not 'Monotoli'. The bastard has too big an ego. Let's get out of here while we talk." Elliot started to stride off, quickly, Mr. Links trailing behind him. He nabbed some newspapers off the stands, absently leaving behind a few spare bills as he did so.

"Hm..." Elliot looked them over, desperately searching for something to add into this puzzle.

And then he came across the local Alternative Rag, the Fourside Star.

It wasn't even the front pages that he searched, but the folded-back copy, discarded carelessly on top of a bench. To the Bars and Nightlife section.

Monotoli? In the nightlife section? Elliot immediately snatched it up, read the relevant section over, then handed it to Joseph. "What do you make of this?"

"Offhand? I'd say we're going to Jackie's."

"But everybody-"

"Don't _even_ start the Casablanca jokes."

"Tch. Fine." Elliot strode down the escalator as the lights started to come on. "Is the loading dock this way?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Now here's the plan..."

Out of the receiving dock, Elliot and Joseph walked, hands up.

Elliot was fully expecting them to arrest them. The questioning was relatively brief. Elliot nodded along with the officer in the interrogation room as he lightly tossed a rather thick manila folder onto the table. "Mr. Fullerby? This is your juvenile record."

Elliot rose an eyebrow. "Very nice, what does this have to do with anything?"

"We have reason to believe that you took hostages in the recent incident in the mall."

"Well, that _would_ be interesting. If you had any evidence."

"You do not have a concealed carry permit for the length of chain-"

Elliot cut him off. "I use it to lock up things. Are you saying I need a concealed carry permit to use a chain and a lock?"

"No, but several witnesses have stated you pulled out a chain and started to go... After... The... Animated records and guitars?" He looked at Elliot, who said nothing to relieve his bewilderment except to shrug. "You know what, Mr. Fullerby? You're free to go."

"Thank you, Inspector. Where can I pick up my things?"

The interrogator directed him to it, then shouted at the world in general, "_Can I get some drug tests?_"

Joseph was already out. "I can't believe that worked. All I got was a warning not to carry military surplus around like that."

Elliot waited until they left to respond, and then while making sure everything was squared away properly, said, "Yeah, sorry to foist off my armor like that, but with my juvie record I can't really be seen with it-"

"You know you can get that expunged, right?"

"Yeah, and I did, which makes this all the more suspicious."

"Aren't you-"

"No, they'd promptly ignore it. Let's go. Directions to Jackie's."

"It'll take some time, I just got my compressor back-"

"Don't _screw_ with me, Joseph!"

"All right, all _right_, just chill for a little. God." The now-familiar green visor finally dropped over Joseph's eyes. "I'll take point."

"You'll do no such thing."

"Elliot?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm the one that knows where we're going. I'm taking point."

Elliot blinked at this news. "That is an excellent notion. Lead the way."

Around half an hour later, they stood outside a dilapidated building near the gentrified part of town, with a strangely flickering neon sign that proclaimed it as the bar in question.

Of course, compared to a crowd in an alley, it sort of took second place, even in Elliot's current mindset. Muscling several people aside, he finally looked down on the form of... Everdred?

"Sir?" Elliot blinked.

Everdred was in sorry shape. The ankle had apparently healed but...

Elliot moved over to try and heal him.

"Nope. That's not gonna help," Everdred said, slowly.

"What are you-"

"Your special mojo. You're supposed to lay low, dip. Listen. I been trying to track down that statue- the one what Carpainter had."

Elliot leaned closer to make sure Everdred could stay as quiet as possible. "What about it, Dred?"

"It's here, all right, in Fourside. And it's dangerous."

"Do you know of Skye?"

"She'll be all right, Elliot. The statue is key. Go after it first. It is there, inside Jackie's. But please be careful."

"I won't let you down. But what of your injury?"

"It does not matter." Everdred started to stand. "I will be all right. Because I can still do work, I will persevere."

"You need to stay down. Everdred, you might do well, but not in this state!"

Joseph had to wince, he recognized what they did, but did not enjoy.

Everdred nodded. There was nothing to be done. He needed to leave. "It's up to you two. Do not let me down, you hear? It is time for me to leave." With no other words, and shouldering aside the other members of the crowd, he started a long, lonely walk down the road.

"That was too geeky, Elliot- I can't believe you managed that."

"Missed a syllable."

"Dammit! I want a redo!"

"No. Let's get going."

With no further warning, Elliot entered Jackie's. It was as dark on the inside, if not darker, than it was on the outside. Several dejected people sat about, on tables and at the bar itself.

"So what now?" Joseph asked.

Elliot smirked, said nothing, and walked to the bartender. "Hey."

The bartender looked suspicious of them, but let them sit. "What's your deal?"

Elliot cracked his neck. "Here on behalf of The Mister. He wants to make sure the storeroom's clear."

"Always is, isn't it?"

"He's pissed. Someone wrecked the shit of the Mall, shut it down for a day." Elliot shrugged. "So he wants to make sure this place stays nice and clean. You do too, right?"

The bartender looked around, shocked. "O-of course."

"Excellent, we have an understanding. After all, the Mister does so love understanding and peace." Elliot smirked.

"T-this way, sirs."

They were quietly led to a small, unassuming door that opened into-

Blackness. Blackness that, at the same time, seemed edged and tinged with light, so that if you squinted, everything retained precisely its normal shape.

At the same time, all the humans about the place seemed almost normal if it didn't look like all the light in the place came out of some kind of colored filter. The overall effect was similar to one of those psychedelic lightshows played out across the crowd- you could tell, vaguely, where everyone was, but you couldn't imagine what they were doing or how they got there.

Elliot closed his eyes reflexively, but the image didn't change when he did so. He shook his head. "Joseph, are you getting this too?"

Joseph nodded. "I'll keep an eye out."

Elliot looked at what he could only assume was the bartender. "Where are we?"

"Welcome to Moonside."

"Moonside? What the hell?"

"Well, here, 'no' means 'yes'-"

Elliot cut him off right there. "Got it. Okay. Everything's all 'crazy' and 'reversed' right?"

"No."

Elliot rolled his eyes. "Well, this is gonna get old quick."

Joseph nodded in assent and left the other denizens at the bar to their own devices.

It would just figure that the first thing to attack them in this ridiculous edgy world would be a clock. A melting one.

Elliot winced, hit it, then watched as it glorped around Mr. Links.

"Okay, that's not going to-" Elliot went flying into the wall of what used to be Jackie's. "Ow..."

A few blasts from Joseph's weaponry proved nearly as useless- the clock just appeared five feet away, no harm done. "Uh, ideas?"

"You're the ideas guy!" Elliot responded. "Figure something out!" Elliot began to concentrate on healing his own wounds.

The clock was starting to turn its face to Elliot, not saying anything, but starting to change into one of those creepy cat clocks. Only now it looked worse, because it had melted.

Another potshot managed to hit the clock. Taking that as a moment of vulnerability, Elliot charged in-

Only to suddenly be staring a steamroller in the face. He rolled out of the way as the clock continued to hover in midair, as if mocking him.

That tore it. Mr. Links went mad, striking from every direction at once in a stream of red-banded fury. The clock cracked and oozed as it exploded with psychic fury.

A nameplate landed next to Joseph. He picked it up. "Says 'Mannheim'."

Elliot blinked. "Whatever. I just want _out_."

They continued down the road, running into some kind of invisible wall. Elliot ran his hand alongside it, eventually spotting a man remarkably like Skye's father, loud aloha shirt and all. "Hey there! What are you up to?"

The man seemed, for a moment, to stare into Elliot's soul. "Hello... And... Goodbye."

There was a moment of _discontinuity_-

They were somewhere in Creole Town- or this world's messed up version of Creole Town, anyway. If anything, the colors were louder here.

What seemed to be a circling fire slowly resolved itself into a moving fire hydrant as it approached. This did not bode well.

"It's moving," Elliot noted. "Shoot it."

The crack of the rifle made itself heard over the general insanity of Moonside itself, blowing several holes in the fire hydrant before it could get into anything approaching range.

The spray was immense, but thankfully dispersed enough that it didn't end up hurting them as it started to drain through the streets.

"Great, so now we're wet," Joseph said. "Any other bright ideas, fearless leader?"

"Next time you see a patch of fire, shoot it before it resolves?"

"Good point."

And there, again, was a man in a luau shirt and jean shorts, blonde, barrel-chested. "Hey, are you going to tell us anyhting of substance?"

Again, that moment of staring into Elliot's soul-

Now they were behind the Monotoli Building. Near the wall. Elliot started immediately to head south- surely, the Monotoli building was the center of this entire mess.

This was a sailor of some kind, doughty, wide, impossibly strong-looking. The way to the left of him was a wall too high for even Elliot to jump over; To his right was a cliff not even he could survive.

"Hey there," Elliot said.

"Hello," the man replied.

"Let me through."

"'Yes'," the man shook his head. "I'll only do that if you find my friend."

"Your friend?"

"'No'. You'll know it's him because he's invisible."

"Any other distinguishing features? Besides invisibility?" Joseph asked, cutting into the conversation.

"Well, he has a unibrow. And a gold tooth. Will that be enough to go on?"

Elliot nodded. "'No'. We'll find your invisible man."

"Thanks."

As Elliot and Joseph left him behind, Elliot noted, "Good to find someone relatively sane in this place."

"Only relatively?" Joseph asked.

"Well, he is standing in one spot waiting for his friend."

"Point."

Two guys in Luau shirts were waiting for Elliot. As the second seemed to be behind an invisible wall, Elliot didn't particularly care.

"All right, putz, let's get this over with. Search my soul or whatever."

This one seemed kind of hurt, since he only seemed to mutter briefly, "Hello... And goodbye..."

And then they were inside a room. Someone, who wore gold chains and his hair in a mohawk, was here.

"What is it with this whole trip and Mr. T?" Joseph asked.

"Don't knock Mr. T," Elliot said. "He can throw fools helluva far."

Joseph paused, letting that sink in, before shrugging. "Whatever. Let's just see if we can ask him anything."

Elliot paused. "Wait." He seemed to look around, sniff sniff sniff the air. He turned to a spot where there didn't seem to be anyone. "You there!" he called out.

"Who... Me?" the air responded. "You mean you can actually see me?"

Elliot paused, rolling his eyes, the quote fingers coming up. "'No.'"

"Oh, wow! Not a lot of people can do that!" he paused. "Hey, you think I could stick with you guys a while?"

"'No.'"

"Cool beans!" There was suddenly a presence, undefinable, unnerving and peculiar, just behind Joseph.

Elliot went over to Mr. T. "Hey."

"Hey, foo'. You really want to get out of here?"

"'No.'"

"Then Hello... And goodbye. Foo'."

-And now they were in some kind of hotel room, which they exited to find themselves in some odd semblance of a Bed and Breakfast. Only not, because the people were too formally dressed, and standing next to a guy who was far too punk for Elliot's taste.

"Oniji?" Joseph paused.

"Who's Oniji?"

"My... Connection here in Fourside. And Moonside, apparently."

"Ah. I'm gonna say, knee-jerk reaction, let's not screw around. We've got the pieces. Right?"

The invisible man responded. "Right!"

Joseph positively jumped at the voice. "How did-"

"I could hear his footsteps." Elliot let a pause go by as Joseph's disbelief grew. "And his breathing."

With that, they left the hotel, which turned out to be in the hospital building.

A few soul-searing teleports later, they finally ended up next to the Sailor again, who took a look at the invisible man. "Yeah, he's the one. Thanks!"

"Oh! Hey, Charlie!"

"Wanna go grab some brews?"

"Nah!"

With that, they both went off together.

Joseph paused. "That is perhaps the oddest conversation I have ever seen."

"No it's not," Elliot replied.

"Wait, was that in Moonside terms or in reality terms?"

"Reality."

"Oh." Joseph shook his head. "This is starting to get to me."

"You have _no_ idea."

They started down the switchbacks, eventually coming to the front entrance of the Monotoli building.

Standing there was an old man. He was bent, but not broken, not strong anymore, but by no means weak. If not for his sharp blue suit and fedora, he gave off the image of those sprightly old masters you saw in kung fu movies.

He was knelt at the foot of a great, golden statue, that held a sword in two hands, stuck into the ground.

Elliot focused his attention on the old man. "Hey! Is this what's causing this, geezer?"

"Geezer? _Geezer?_ How dare you!" the old man stood up. "I am- am _not_ Monotoli! You'll pay for those remarks later."

"Buzz off." Elliot strode forward, and Monotoli broke and ran.

Elliot turned his attention to the Statue. He recognized it, vaguely, as the Mani Mani, the idol Carpainter had worshipped. But, more important, was what the Mani Mani statue was of.

It was golden, the PASGT helmet had horns on it, and the mussed, curly hair had been romanticized, but Elliot had no doubt he was staring into his own eyes.

And they were staring back.

"Okay, _that's _it!" Elliot made a cutoff motion with his hands. "You can kidnap my party. You can put me through the most puerile _bullshit_ I thought I'd outgrown when I was _six_, but _you took my look._ _Nobody_ takes my look."

"Uh... James Dean called-" Joseph started.

"_Thin ice._"

At this point, the statue began to move, its sword rising, moving to a guard stance.

Joseph rolled his eyes, took two steps back, and pulled out the grenade launcher while Elliot pulled out Mr. Links.

THOOMP. SHRAK. The grenade went off in the statue's face-

Which looked just fine, aside from a few grenade fragments stuck in it. The statue raised its sword slightly, firing off a bright flash of light. Joseph didn't cover his eyes in time; his grenades were effectively useless now.

Elliot's sunglasses had saved him, and he still had to cover his eyes. He struck out with Mr. Links-

Only to have the statue slice it neatly in half with the sword.

Elliot caught the weighted half before it hit him in the face. "_Dammit!_"

The statue finally spoke. "You never stood a chance." Its sword was near Elliot's throat. "Not against me."

The sword's point started to shake, then slowly tear itself apart. Elliot's anger, and pain, and all the crap he'd been through in the past six hours, seemed to make itself known in the tearing apart, shard by shard, piece by piece, of the statue, in every direction.

It ended with the torso splitting nearly in half before Elliot's headache and fatigue caught up with him, forcing him to stop. And the black, outline-edged world of Moonside seemd to slowly fade...

Into a fairly normal-looking storeroom, that also happened to have had the hell shot out of it.

The statue no longer had Elliot's face, and stared blankly, but its mouth still moved, slowly winding down. "You have won the battle, but in your anger, you have lost... T..h..e... warrrr..."

**END- Wandering Star**


	27. Desperado

**Chapter 27: Desperado**

Route 68 stretched in front of Elliot and Joseph, as they strode down it at Elliot's top speed, calmly striding alongside traffic. On his cheek was a red slap mark, that was just beginning to bruise; Elliot's eyes drooped slightly as he and Joseph conversed under the full moon.

"So let me get this straight," Joseph said. "We're going to this Talah Rama guy."

"Talah Lama. The 135th, if that monkey's to be believed."

* * *

The monkey signed out his request, letting Joseph know that Elliot's presence was requested not only for Elliot's further training, but also for the peculiar matter of a package that had been delivered...

* * *

"Yeah."

"So he can teach you something he thinks is important."

"Uh-huh."

"To get a yogurt machine."

Elliot nodded dumbly.

"Partly because Skye likes the stuff and partly because It'll help us get to Monotoli."

* * *

Elliot looked her over. Really, who got into those French Maid outfits anymore? Well, aside from people playing to the fetish. This woman was definitely playing to it, thought a little more conservatively than most- okay, a _lot_ more conservatively. She was positively covered up, aside from the fact that she was provocative just by standing around. "Uh, yes."

"Oh! Excellent! I'm Electra Sparks."

"Who?" Elliot asked. Then he smiled wickedly, adding, "I mean, besides a pun worthy of a porn star."

She slapped him. _Hard_. "I'm Mr. Monotoli's personal janitor, idiot!"

Elliot rubbed his cheek, breathing with the sting. "Sorry, we're tourists."

"Ah." Her tone seemed to take a turn for the worse. "Can't be helped, I suppose. We have a guest who likes that stuff. If we could make it domestically instead of importing it, it would help the household budget for the month..."

Elliot looked at Joseph.

Joseph looked at Elliot.

"Man, Skye really _is_ a geek," they both said at once.

* * *

"Right."

"So we can rescue Skye, who you don't want to rescue anyway."

"Hey. That's not fair. I don't want to rescue her on principle. But I got her into this mess, so I get her out." It was quiet, assured, dogged.

"Fine, point taken. But you're _really_ doing it to get into Electra's skirt."

"What was that?"

"You heard me."

"You know just as well as I do that she's a gold digger."

Joseph shrugged. "Whatever. I'm not the one with a thing for blondes."

"That does it." Elliot shook his head, started to slow down. "I'm _not_ having you tossing this crap at me while I'm trying to do something important. Apologize."

"Why?"

"Apologize or I'm not taking us any further."

"Oh, _come on_! This is..."

Joseph paused as Elliot's head fell.

Suddenly he threw up an arm towards Joseph, setting up a shield even as Elliot stumbled, fell, slid sickeningly along the road until he flipped over several times, a gigantic cloud of dust obscuring him from Joseph's view even as he followed after, the fading shield absorbing most of the velocity.

Elliot was bleeding and unconscious, a victim of the most horrible road rash Joseph had ever seen. "Elliot?"

No answer. "Elliot, answer me, you asshole!" Joseph started to haul Elliot out of the sun. "The things I do for friends..."

It was long, hard work to the cliffs, where Joseph desperately searched for a place to keep them while Elliot recovered. What was it... Humidity, cracks... There! Another fifteen minutes of dragging and Joseph was about ready to collapse, himself. A bit more of a struggle put Elliot into the small indent in the rock. Joseph worked on cleaning Elliot's wounds.

They weren't closing. They had started to clot, but... They weren't closing. Why weren't they closing, dammit? "You're supposed to _heal_!"

Elliot, of course, said nothing.

Joseph checked his pulse. Still alive. For now. He should have seen this coming...

* * *

Elliot stomped in the head of the statue even as its life began to fade. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"Wait a second, I want to get some samples of this alloy-" Joseph started, putting on some unreactive gloves.

"Then pick it up and _move!_" Elliot shouted back. "We don't have time for this," He added, much more quietly.

"How about time to rest?"

Elliot turned. Were his eyes slightly sunken? "We can rest when she's back."

* * *

Joseph put a damp cloth- his spare dress shirt, to be more precise- on Elliot's forehead. He knew the core was probably better for a heat sink, but quite frankly, he didn't want to strip Elliot; and doubted Elliot would want him to anyway.

He might _have _to, and he would if he did, however.

It was only at this point that Joseph started to look around the small hole in the cliff wall they had found themselves in.

Therein, he found a monkey. "Well, hello..."

The monkey started to sign. "You're early."

"I am?" Joseph looked confused.

"Yes. A few days. Come." And with that, the monkey fell into some sort of slide, heading deeper underground.

Joseph paused. "And how am I supposed to go down _that _with Elliot being a-" He chose his words carefully. "An albatross on my neck?"

There was an audible sort of sliding sound, though there was no machinery to accompany it.

And standing there, in white robes, sitting amongst phones and incense, smiling an old man's smile, was the Talah Lama.

Old he was, though with a round sort of face that meant you couldn't tell how old he _really _was. His wiry frame and hands belied long practice and skill, and his white hair was done up in a severe topknot.

"So. He needs help. As I suspected. Bring him here."

Joseph looked around. Monkeys washed their hands, putting him on a stretcher and hauling him to the guru.

Joseph paused. "Are you going to psychically heal him?"

Talah Rama looked at Joseph like he was insane. "Of _course_ not! He's had _enough_ psychic power thrown at and used by him for one day! He's getting proper medical attention and _rest_!"

"From _monkeys?_"

"No, they're just the nurses." The monkeys nodded in unison in response to Talah Rama's statement.

A small staff- no more than two or three people- looked Elliot over, as Joseph began to talk with the guru. "So why am I here?"

"That's your choice, young scientist. This is, as they say, your show." The man sat, staring as if into Joseph's very soul. "You could be here to learn about the power that Elliot has- that you may yet harbor."

Joseph shook his head. "I don't think so."

"You could be here because, like it or not, the Seer is your friend as well, and you understand Elliot more than you'd care to admit."

"Maybe."

"You could be here because without the man you loved, you've started to drift."

"Tony? He's a brother to me."

"As you say." Talah Rama looked thoughtful. "There once was an old man, who did not have answers, but only more questions. But the more questions he asked, the more answers people found. And so he became considered great, and wise.

"One day, two injured monkeys came to him, for even animals had heard of this great sage. And they each asked him many questions, but did not understand that he had no real answers, simply old age, experience, and more questions.

"Much to their surprise, of course, they came away from the incident with uncomfortable questions about themselves, and others in their troop. And eventually, one returned to the old man, and asked, 'Are you really that wise?'

Talah Rama paused. "The old man replied, 'How did you answer my questions?'

"'Each of us thought hard, and deep, and acted only with certainty.'

"'Then what have I to teach you of wisdom?'" Talah Rama shrugged.

Joseph blinked, after hearing the story. "What are my important questions?"

"There's a good one there." Talah Rama shook his head. "But for now, the best question for you is, 'Where are the beds?'" He laughed loudly. "Why are you trying to think with a head too tired to continue?"

"Because it's the only way I know how."

"Foolish," Talah Rama replied. "Thinking is best done wide awake, like anything careful."

Joseph laughed a little as Talah Rama stood up. "Come. This way. I believe it is time to retire, myself."

Joseph nodded. "Sleep's starting to sound good, you're right."

"You misunderstand, I'm getting too old for this shit."

* * *

The next day, Elliot awoke to the lights of a hospital ward. "Not again..."

"Good morning... Mister Fullerby." The doctor nodded.

"Yeah, that's me, official medical mystery." Elliot sat up. "So what should I be dead of this time?"

The doctor shook is head. "Severe abrasions, several broken bones. Of course, we know of your... Extraordinary abilities here, Mister Fullerby."

Elliot looked perplexed. "Where am I?"

"The medical wing of a small underground system of caves. Talah Rama wanted to let you know that he'll be available once you've rested enough." The doctor checked off a tick on the clipboard. "Other than that, bed rest and a small course of antibiotics have proven remarkably effective."

"How long have I been out?"

"About half a day. On a personal note... Please stop pushing yourself so hard."

"Why not?"

"I don't think you can keep it up much longer. At this rate, I suspect you'll die in twelve hours. Twenty on the outside."

"That's long enough." Elliot started to stand. "Where's the Talah Rama?"

The doctor shook his head. "That way. If you can make it out of the room."

"Thanks." Elliot started to hobble off. Damn it all. He was not going out like this. No. His body was going to listen to him, not the other way around.

Talah Rama looked up from the haze in the middle of the room. It was largely bare, save for several cushions about the place and one phone, which the Talah sat by.

Joseph, sitting near the wall, didn't even look up, or across the room. "Hello, Elliot. You're still hurt."

"Good morning, Joseph. It's time to go."

Talah Rama shook his head. "Joseph's right. You cannot learn what I have to teach until you are ready. So come, listen to my stories a while."

Elliot blinked against the smoke that filled the room, walking in and sitting on the nearest set he could find. "If I have to wait, I'll wait, but don't think for a second-"

"I understand entirely, young Elliot. More than you might realize." Talah rama seemed to look into his very soul for a moment, a searing probe laying bare his petty little problems. And then, a vision:

_It was home. Home, in a way even Onett had not been, on the back of a motorcycle, heading nowhere, and loving every second. Who cared about the devastation of the world? This was enough. _

Elliot paused, considered. "No. I promised."

Talah Rama smiled. "Your determination is your greatest asset. It is also a great weakness."

"Weakness?" Elliot felt everything going numb, he was floating away on some kind of breeze, the smoke lifting him even as it pressed into his breath. "How can it be a weakness?"

"That's one question of many you need to seek the answers for yourself." Talah Rama shook his head. "You have won many battles, young one, but be careful not to lose the real war."

Where had Elliot heard that before? It sounded so... Familiar, yet so far away he couldn't recall, like another year, another lifetime.

"And war it is, against a long-fought foe; more alien and yet more human than any of you realize, even the seer." Talah Rama nodded. "But enough of that. Let me tell you the Theory of Everything..."

"Everything?" Elliot asked. "Everything is everything. There's no point in rationalizing it."

"You've grasped the basics. But more importantly... Everything is together. Everything on this planet, in space, in time... These barriers are nothing to the well-prepared mind. If you go out far enough, even the galaxy is a single speck to be neglected in the great calculations of the universe." He looked at Elliot. "Do you follow me so far?"

"Sort of. It's physics."

"Just so, but of a different level. Like the difference between Newtonian mechanics and Einsteinian ones. There are higher orders of the universe that the well-trained mind can perceive and use as he wishes- small connections that leap great apparent distance. The best at it can do so standing still; I cannot claim that. Mostly, it's best to go at speed."

"Why?"

"Because then you're too busy thinking about how to keep upright and moving to think too hard about the distance."

"Which is negligible anyway."

"That's the theory."

Elliot paused, letting it all sink in. "I suppose you're telling me I can pull this off?"

"Just like any Mach Pizza delivery boy," Talah Rama grinned.

"I ain't working for you."

"Yes... You are far more important than you realize. That's the only reason I'm teaching this to you. The entire world is relying on you to succeed."

"So, you know, no pressure," Joseph added.

Elliot laughed, falling back against the cushions, looking at the shifting patterns in the ceiling. "I suppose. Let's get this over with..."

Moments later, in the harsh noonlight, Elliot realized why he would need his utmost, as he watched a monkey accelerate to far past any speed Elliot had yet reached, and just as it started to reach the point where Elliot's eyes split the road in half, it let off three sonic booms- and vanished.

Just as suddenly, it boomed back in, knocking Elliot off his dazed feet. It signed, "Speed. Thought. Location. Now you try."

Elliot nodded, hauling Joseph along. "So. Teleporting."

"Yeah," Joseph responded. "But that's not the fun bit."

"What's the fun bit?"

"What appears to be the threshold speed."

Elliot paused, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "... Which means?"

"Which means... If my calculations are correct, when you hit 88 miles per hour..." Joseph put on his glasses with a flick of the wrist. "We're gonna see some serious shit."

"Well, we sure as hell can't stay here, this is bat country."

"Did you take in too much of that smoke, Elliot?"

"Maybe. Who cares?" Elliot grabbed Joseph's hand. "Let's get a move on. Oh, and do try to keep up."

Elliot found himself freed, the shield deflecting everything as they picked up speed, running full out in the sun for the first time since middle school, just letting everything go. There was a moment of white- discontinuity-

And Elliot suddenly found himself tumbling through something cold, that melted at his touch, cold that pierced his jacket and left him absolutely dumbfounded.

Joseph ran up to Elliot, helping him up after his tumble. "What happened? You seeemd to be doing all right until we hit snow."

"Well, you try skidding to a halt on icy ground." Elliot brushed himself off. "It's cold." He blinked, looked around. "This isn't Fourside." Another moment. "This isn't any place I know."

Joseph looked at the closed gates. "I do. This is Winters. New Starwick... And my college is closed for the summer."

"This is summer?"

"We're pretty far north." Joseph paused. "Very far north. This is one of the most northern points in Winters."

"But how did we get here? I've never even been in Winters, never mind this far from the border."

"Better question- how do we get back?"

Elliot paused. "We could just teleport out. But first... I need to replace Mr. Links."

"Mr...? Oh, right, the chain. Well, let's see what's in the general store..."

Therein, the flint spear on the wall called out to Elliot. "That one."

The purchase made, and some cold-weather gear purchased for the both of them (largely as a concession that yes, they might, concievably, end up here again), Elliot and Joseph made a second attempt to get where they were going.

Clearer heads prevailed, and Elliot skidded to a short stop on Route 68, placing a single handful of snow in front of the monkey and bowing to him.

The monkey nodded. "Speed. Intent. Location. Remember these keys." It handed Elliot a somewhat bulky machine, which he handed to Joseph, who somehow managed to stuff it into the ALICE despite itself.

Elliot nodded, and with Joseph at his back, they arrived in Fourside in almost no time at all, in front of the Chaos Theater.

"So where do we go from here?" Joseph asked.

Elliot smiled, widely, having finally caught the trick. "Anywhere we want."

"More specific, Elliot."

"We're going up. All the way up." Elliot pointed to the visible top floor of the Monotoli building. "And we're going to have a lot of fun doing it."

Which made Joseph wonder why they were waiting at the bottom of the tower for a pizza of all things. "So wait, why are we waiting on this?"

"The entrance, man. The entrance is everything."

"Then why the pizza?"

"Because the pizza will make it awesome. We are going to barge in there, look absolutely awesome, and have the bag of chips to go with it." Elliot grinned. "Oh, but it's going to be delicious."

Joseph raised an eyebrow. "And who are we trying to look cool in front of, anyway?"

"Anyone who's watching."

"Which would be a grand total of maybe two people. Which one are you showing off for?"

"Both." At this point, someone tapped Elliot on the shoulder. "Mach pizza, right?"

The man nodded. "Yes, sir. A large? Supreme? To a Mr. Fullerby?"

"That's me." Elliot handed over the cash. "Thanks."

"No problem, sir!"

Elliot walked out of the elevator on the sixty-fourth floor holding the pizza in one hand, the spear in the other. The security guards looked at him, and he stopped them with a look. "This is a pie for Monotoli. You wanna tell him delivery was delayed?"

They backed off.

Elliot looked at the other elevator, whose sign simply read:

"64 - 70"

"Looks like our ticket up," Elliot noted.

A moment later, the two of them started the short ride up to the top floor. "Well, here we go. Nobody to screw with us now..."

"Or at least, that's what you hope."

And with that the doors opened into an empty room, with a few doors, one leading to some bathrooms, the others leading places unknown. "Let's stick together for now..." Elliot opened a door, finding a different kind of hovering disc, this one supporting a lot of various powerful armament- at least, by modern standards.

Joseph blew it away with a grenade, while Elliot backed up, protecting the pie from the shrapnel.

"Aren't those expensive?" Elliot asked.

Joseph gave Elliot a look.

"What?"

"Let's just go..."

In each room, at least three of the sentry hoverdiscs waited, opening fire before either Elliot or Joseph had a chance to speak. Joseph was taking care of the lion's share of them, what with Elliot bobbing and weaving away from the shots to protect the precious pizza. Still, Elliot got in a few strikes with the spear, though he mostly resorted to kicks.

Joseph's laser rifle was running low on ammo, and the hoverdiscs were piling up in their wake, when by the fourth room, when Joseph had had enough. "Could you set down the pie for five seconds and HELP?"

Elliot looked almost hurt by the suggestion "But... Then I might step on it."

"BASTARD!" The next four went down in a fit of rapid fire and frustration, which led to Electra opening the door to a room. "Get in, I know the passwords."

Joseph sheared off a few samples from the last hoverdisc, pocketing them. The sentry taken care of, they arrived at a small live-in room, made up to look like a star's room.

"I'm sorry I didn't help with the sentries earlier, but the guest must be kept under wraps, you see."

Elliot paused. "That's fine. Joseph, the machine?"

The ALICE slowly yielded the machine, the milk went in, trout-flavored yogurt came out. Electra tasted it, and blanched. "Here, you can have it."

"We'll be sure to give it to Skye when we see her," Elliot thanked.

"You're going to go help that woman?"

"We're her team," he noted, looking back at the wreckage of the robot in the next room. "What else would we do?" He carefully, precariously, balanced it on top of the pizza box. Joseph snatched it off with more than a little contempt as Elliot flailed, trying to rebalance the box.

Electra nodded. "You're good people, Mr. Fullerby. Help Mr. Monotoli. For all our sakes."

Elliot smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

Electra's directions through the maze of corridors well in mind, Elliot quickly came to an anteroom- a secretary's room, complete with desk.

Pictures and wood paneling denoted that this was the secretary of someone very powerful indeed, or, at least, that this is what they would like you to think. But instead of a human secretary, there was... Some kind of childlike, bipedal robot. Elliot was tempted to ask how old it was, but it stood on top of the desk. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"Too bad." And then it sat on the desk.

Elliot looked around. This couldn't be serious, could it? He started to walk to the door-

Only to have a thrown gear slice the hand holding the pizza. That had hurt! Worse, he'd almost lost the pizza! "Joseph! Grenade! Now!" Elliot hustled out of the room as the grenade went off, and rushed back in to find it happily chowing down on a bologna sandwich.

"Ew. Bologna," it intoned, but it seemed to be... Repairing itself?

This was not good by any stretch. The spear glowed briefly, and Elliot smashed into it with a force hundreds of times past that of the grenade. The flint broke, shortly followed by the rest of the spear when the robot threw another gear, splitting it neatly in half. "_DAMMIT_!"

"Come on, Elliot, it was flint." Joseph opened fire and got behind cover.

This turned out to be an excellent decision as it started to pull out a good old-fashioned pineapple grenade. It beeped. "When Mr. Pin is pulled, Mr. Grenade is no longer your friend!"

In the hue and cry of trying to stay the hell away from the grenade and not lose the pie in the process, Elliot barely noticed the robot powering down. Wait, there were more people in the room?

Six of them, to be more precise, by the names of Lucky, Gorgeous, Wolfgang, Johann, Rick... And whatshisname. Bob, that's right!

"We got him," Lucky shouted to Elliot. "Grenade's safe. Get in there and save her already!"

The door to Monotoli's office caved quickly, shattering into splinters as Elliot put a flying foot into it.

The sight was... Not what Elliot had expected.

Mr. Monotoli was tied up, gagged, bruised. He had a few shallow cuts on his face, and a few fresh ones from where the door's splinters had hit him in the face. His face looked upon Elliot with suddenly fresh hope. "Oh, thank God..."

Joseph shook his head. "What are you talking about?" He pointed at Skye. "We're with her." He turned to Skye. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She turned an evil grin to Monotoli.

Monotoli whimpered. "Please, I'll give you anything you want! Really! Just keep that crazy bitch away from me!"

Elliot, having recovered from the wind being knocked out of his sails, finally looked at Skye. "Well, you seem to have tied this up with a neat little bow."

"Pretty much," Skye smirked.

He nodded. "By the way- the ball gag around his neck? Nice touch."

"Thank you," Skye replied.

"One question."

"Yeah?"

Elliot then proceeded to get Skye in the most improbable headlock ever devised, the pizza set down near the door. "WHAT THE HELL! I've been up and down Fourside and environs for two damn days trying to rescue you and you're having TEA with the man! Would a goddamn PHONE CALL have been too much to ask?"

"Ack I'm sorry I'm sorry leggo!" Skye shouted back, then looked at Monotoli. "And what have I told you about calling me a bitch?"

Monotoli looked like he was about to wet himself.

Skye sighed. "I suppose I'll have to teach you again-"

Elliot put a hand in front of her. "You've done enough damage. I mean, I had a line ready and everything!"

"Yeah, I'll bet you stole it from Buffy."

"Actually, it was more to do with Mach Pizza, but whatever. By the way, would you like some Trout Yogurt?"

"You managed to get some?" Skye looked surprised. "How did-"

"Electra told us, that's how we got up here," Joseph cut in.

Elliot paused, taking one of Skye's knives- with her permission- and holding them at Monotoli's ropes. "Okay, tell us everything you know about what's going on."

"And?"

"And I'll let you go."

"Right. Well, I don't know much... I was being used by the statue... It feeds into your deepest desires. Brings them out. But the price is dear... The fear, the anger, the despair, they come out too... It got to the point I was worshipping that thing daily. And it told me to do such terrible things... It wanted to deny your progress. Slow you. Keep you from reaching Summers."

Monotoli sighed. "I think that the best way, now, to do what is necessary, is for all of you to go to Summers as soon as possible... Take-"

At that moment, pounding through the room, and past a taxidermied full grizzly bear, was Pokey, who quickly shoved it aside, opened a gate and left down the secret passage.

"Quickly! The helicopter is there! Get to it!"

Elliot didn't need any further prompting, but Joseph had the quickest start, followed by Skye, with Elliot bringing up the rear; down the dark corridor filled with sodium light, casting an orange tint of desperation even as the helicopter's engines were starting.

Pokey was already at the controls and lifting off the pad when Elliot and company slid to a halt outside. "So long, dickweed!" Pokey laughed an evil laugh as he started to ascend into the heights of the city. "Catch me if you can!"

That did it. Elliot reached out with one hand, and squeezed with that hand and his mind-

The helicopter paused, lurched sickeningly in midair, not twenty yards from them. The engine strained against Elliot's psychic force. Elliot started to close his fist, and the body of the 'copter groaned with immense amounts of strain.

Pokey, fear in his eyes, reached into his jacket and pulled out a semi-automatic, aimed, and fired at Elliot's hand.

The bullet put a hole the size of a half-dollar right through the center. The helicopter lurched upwards as Pokey gave a laugh of victory.

Elliot screamed a little with the pain, even as his hand started to regenerate the immense amount of damage done to it. About a minute later, Pokey was gone, and Elliot's hand didn't even have a scar. "Damn you, Pokey... I'll chase you to the ends of the earth and back if I have to."

Joseph shook his head. "It's not important now. Right now, we need to get to Summers."

"Let's head back, get our lunch." Elliot paused. "And free Monotoli."

"You're the boss," Skye said. She walked along the corridor with them and waited while Elliot set Monotoli free. And then, when her knife had been returned to her...

There were visions. Many of them. All at once.

People, places, things, robots, a sage in red, a prince of the East, inconsequential items, hundreds of things with neither purpose nor kismet except to be swept up in the tides of time...

She felt herself collapse to the floor, even though she couldn't see it. Her breath was quickening- she couldn't hear anything but the thousands of voices around her. She fumbled for the pocket of her hoodie. It had to be somewhere around here, she knew she had it on... Her hand touched metal, and she withdrew the kunai-

A hand on her shoulder. And, through it, Elliot's words pierced everything. "_No_."

The vision stopped melting into thousands of others, the image of a large saucer, the graveyard in Threed, the people repairing the saucer... And Joseph exiting it when he first arrived...

Her vision presently returned, and as soon as it did, she snapped out, "Threed!"

She recovered her breath, and looked. The kunai had fallen to the floor, scattered across the carpet.

Elliot, Joseph, and Monotoli all looked concerned; Monotoli more because Skye had come out of it at all rather than out of any real concern for her. He was, incidentally, hiding behind Elliot. And a chair.

Elliot extended a hand. "Are you all right?"

Skye nodded, taking the hand up. "Threed. We've got to go to Threed to get to Summers. There's something there. Some thing important."

Joseph paused. "Like the Sky Runner?"

"Maybe, I don't know!" Skye paused. "But we do need to get there. Quickly."

Elliot paused, blinked, shook his head. "I don't think I got enough in me to teleport us there."

Skye nodded. "Luckily, I think we know someone who can help."

END: Desperado


	28. Certain Kind of Fool

**Chapter 28: Certain Kind of Fool**

The Five looked at Elliot and the others, who sort of stared back, the exhaustion very clear in Elliot's eyes if no one else's.

Lucky shook his head. "You need to get somewhere?"

"Threed again," Skye said. "Summers, if you can."

"Can't do Summers."

"It's in Greece, I wouldn't expect it," Elliot cut in. "But Threed is good."

"Well, then, what are we waiting for? Let's get this party started!"

The trip down was full of pizza and dreams, slices passed around to all, and then it was time to get on the bus.

A few days later, and Threed was apparently in much better shape; plants were growing again and the circus, whileit had not left town, was manageable again. Despite the lack of announcement, Elliot and company received a hero's welcome; the tone turned bittersweet as they explained that they had arrived just to leave again, and further explained their situation.

A couple of men motioned them to follow.

The graveyard held bad memories for Elliot. Each grave he walked by made him a little more jumpy, and he shuddered as they descended again into the earth.

There, in the cell that had kept them for days, was what Joseph immediately recognized as the Sky Runner- its hull whole again, waiting patiently for its pilot.

"We did what we could," the first guy said.

"Couldn't figure out the electronics, though."

Joseph took a look inside it, quickly scanned the guts of the machine, and with four basic connections, had it humming happily again.

His head poked out the hatch. "Come on in, guys, there's enough space for three."

The Sky Runner was a little cramped; even though it seated three, there was little room to lean back or pack away gear. The seats weren't even cushioned very well. Surprisingly, Elliot noticed that due to the way the chairs were made, this didn't much matter.

He had to have dozed off, in his exhaustion and lack of anything to actually do, because next Elliot remembered, Joseph was waking him up. "Hey. Come on, we're here."

Yet again, Skye wasn't anywhere nearby. "Off on her own again?"

"Yep."

Elliot stood up outside of the Sky Runner, and walked into a dream. Vehicles of all kinds stood up on the walls, in pieces, in various forms and modes.

But what struck him most of all was the bike. It had wheels with no spokes; nothing, in fact, apparently connecting the wheels to the axle. And yet they were hanging there, clearly kept in place by some force or other. He could see that it was sleek, once closed up, yet opened and slid out for easy access to the nitty gritty.

And, of course, it was black. A vision in polished chrome with an optional sidecar. Built more for long hauls across country than any stretch of singular road.

And then he saw that it could hunker down, slip down, and start to get some real speed. This was a bike for the Devil himself.

So of course, Elliot was in love with it instantly. "Now that's freakin' Airwolf..." He whispered, in a hushed tone.

"It is also decidedly not yours, Mr. Fullerby." The voice was just behind him! When had other people gotten into the lab?

"Wha?" Elliot looked back to find the family resemblance uncanny.

"Honestly, what would your father think? It's not even finished."

"Uh, right." He paused, almost reaching out to it, then shook his head. "It'd be a beautiful thing, though..."

"Yes, it will, won't it?" Dr. Andonuts looked on it with pride, and Joseph, behind him, seethed.

"What about the Sky Runner?" Joseph asked.

"Oh, it'll need some refueling," Dr. Andonuts said, waving it off. "In the meantime, why don't you check the area out? I've heard there are amazing things around."

Skye stepped out of a small capsule near the end of the lab opposite what appeared to be a large airlock. "Wow, that really is refreshing!"

Joseph raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Impressive, Dr. Andonuts. It works."

Skye's stomach growled. "But... I'm still hungry."

"A qualified success," Dr. Andonuts stated.

"And that was?" Elliot asked, lost.

"Rejuvenator capsule," They all said, at once.

Joseph paused. "Listen, you guys go on ahead."

"You sure?" Elliot asked.

"Yeah."

Elliot looked from Joseph, to his father, back to Joseph, and nodded. "All right, but I want you back with us in an hour."

Joseph shook his head. "It won't take nearly that long."

Elliot and Skye left the lab _cum_ manse after looking at each other for a moment. Clearly they had their own things to hash out, and Elliot was getting out his winter gear even as she tightened her hoodie against the biting cold.

Joseph turned to Dr. Andonuts. "This is what you've wasted your pride on? This lab? These- these machines?"

Dr. Andonuts winced. "Joseph-"

"You weren't even there for my graduation from Snow Wood!"

"In my defense, you weren't there either."

"Because I knew you wouldn't show!" Joseph paused. "You always left me alone- or left me behind. For what? This? If this is what I'm heading for, I don't want it."

"Joseph, I'll... I'll admit I wasn't there. Neither was your mother, but that's beside the point." Dr. Andonuts looked around at the lab. "She has an excuse... I never did. The hours won't make up for ten years."

"You're right. They won't."

"At least let me repair the Sky Runner for you." Dr. Andonuts looked pained. "From an old man who loves his machines too much."

Joseph smiled a little. "Thank you. I've got to catch up. I'll see you later today, I think we have a lot to discuss."

With that, his gear readied, Joseph opened the lock to the outside world.

The cold was like a slap in the face, even as he readied the laser system, Joseph knew he and the others probably needed to get to some proper shelter soon or freeze.

A body along the road only heightened his fear, until he realized it was one of the local troglodytes, who had been taking a joyride of some kind until only recently.

Joseph rolled him over to get a closer look, which took a moment or two of strain.

Several cuts, scabbed over- recently. Bruises. A nasty lump- looked like a concussion. Joseph would have asked what barbarians had done this, but he had a sickening feeling that he already knew.

Sounds of combat! Joseph huffed and puffed towards them; he couldn't just let it alone. Curse Elliot, rubbing off on him like this!

The scene was amazing, opening before Joseph's eyes as he stepped into the small clearing surrounding the Henge.

Elliot and Skye were facing off against another one of the troglodytes.

But it wasn't like Joseph remembered them being able to fight. For starters, it was totally silent, as Elliot ducked out of the way of the caveman's club, as he nodded in its direction...

...And left a shot wide open for Skye to throw several knives into it. She backed away...

...and Elliot drove the knives deeper home with hammerblows from the broken pieces of the flint spear once the caveman's attention was drawn away from him. He leapt over the sideswipe...

...Caught the knife Skye threw to him in midair...

...And spun into a throw that pierced its wrist, forcing it to drop the club. Skye reared back to throw behind him and he dropped to the ground...

...Just under a slushball that Skye threw right into its eyes, toppling and blinding it.

Elliot cracked his neck, and nodded at Skye, smiling slightly.

Skye gave a wry smile in response, pointing at Joseph.

Joseph looked completely and utterly lost. "Uh, guys? Are you talking? 'Cause... I can't hear you."

The two of them looked completely confused, Elliot in particular looking back and forth between Skye and Joseph. Skye shrugged.

Joseph paused, and realized what was going on. "Use _speech_, guys."

They apparently still didn't know what the hell he was talking about, so he moved his hands like a puppet. "You know? Noise? Talking? Not telepathy?"

Elliot blinked, reached a hand towards his mouth, and realized it wasn't moving. "Oh. Shit. Sorry, Joseph."

"It's all right." Joseph paused. "Side note? That was really creepy."

"What? We were able to talk without the noise getting in the way, I didn't look a gift horse in the mouth." Elliot said.

"In any case, we should get you to some shelter, Skye," Joseph said. "That hoodie is not going to cut it out here."

"Why didn't you get any for me the last time you were here?"

"I don't know your size." Elliot shrugged.

"You could have-" Skye began.

"Would you really have wanted either of us to know your measurements before now?" Elliot asked.

Skye paused. "You have a point."

"Thank you."

Joseph cut in. "Hypothermia waits for no man, guys, let's roll."

"Too right." Skye started to lag behind while they made their way north. It wasn't far to the northern caves.

The problem with the northern caves, however, was that they were, as Skye put it later, "Cold as shit." Colder, in fact, than the outside, so that stalactites were covered in ice. One broke off and damn near killed Elliot almost as they entered.

Elliot looked at Joseph. "Are you sure this place is safe?"

"Yes! Though... It wasn't so cold last time..."

"Fan...tastic..." Skye blinked, blearily. "c'n we start a fire now 'k thanks."

"That might set off more icicles," Elliot said.

"Suck it up, Wolverine," Joseph snapped. "Let's see if we can't get deeper..."

It started to get a little warmer, but not anywhere out of freezing. Some of the icicles were so close Elliot could touch them, but knew better by this point.

There was a light shortly afterwards. "Hey, Joseph, where's this lead?"

"If it's warmer, it doesn't matter," was Joseph's response. "Wait. No!"

Too late, the voice resounded in Joseph's head again.

_CHOSEN. YOU WILL NOT PASS._

The light started to resolve itself into...

"Shroooooooooom!" Skye shouted.

Elliot considered that she was probably getting a little punchy... So it was best to end this quick. But... He took a look around, and smiled. Oh, that would do nicely. "Everyone back up!" He sent a wave of force at the ceiling, where many more of the icicles waited, coming down like a volley of arrows, piercing the gigantic mushroom in the head, and body, and eyes...

The disadvantage of this haphazard attack was obvious as it started to spray Elliot with something. He blinked. "Whaa...?

Joseph paused, uncertain, then nodded. "GRENADE!"

Even Elliot knew to dive, even while his head was getting fuzzier from the mental pounding he was getting.

Further chunks of icicles rained down, one getting Skye in a nasty gash through her hoodie and one stabbing Joseph deep in the shoulder. Luckily, all that remained of the gigantic mushroom were many smaller chunks.

Elliot attended to Joseph first, still trying to clear his own head. Damn, it had hit an artery. He closed it first, then sewed up the rest of the muscle.

The entire corridor was starting to crack and melt. Ice was falling everywhere. Joseph, the only one in any condition to lead, dragged them off to the nearest exit, which was the one right in front of him...

The light resolved itself into a small sort of enclosed hot spring. A skylight allowed the sun to touch the world lightly here; it also allowed in the snow. The effect was very odd. The snow melted into the hot spring, which convection nd steam caused to collect on the stalactites above, which dripped in a constant slight drizzle back into the spring. Joseph stood amazed. "A rainy circle..."

Elliot slowly walked up to the spring, realizing, somewhere in his head, precisely what it was. Sound Stone. Needed that Sound Stone...

Elliot held it up, watched it react, and float, and play off the melody. He felt... Strange... Light seemed to pierce him from all sides and

_He could swear, for a moment, he could smell a true Burger Joint chicken sandwich- just this side of a briquette, with herbs and spices he could never decipher under the aroma of warm mustard and ketchup... _

Joseph watched Elliot float down. Skye seemed to be quite a bit more chipper too, basking in the steam. "Hey. Sauna. Nice."

Skye waked up to it, warming her hands at the steam and the rain.

"Can we head back?" Joseph asked. "I'd like to talk to Dr. Andonuts again."

"We got what we came for," Elliot noted. "Let's head to the Lab again. Once Skye's warm enough."

This took a few minutes, and the cave itself, while still cold, was nowhere near the outside anymore, which gave Skye and the crew some time to avoid frostbite.

The trip back was much simpler, simply because they didn't encounter any of the cavemen on the way back, and had enough time to enjoy the scenery.

"It'd be beautiful, if it weren't so deadly," Elliot noted.

"Of course," Joseph said. "That's what makes it beautiful."

Both Elliot and Skye looked absolutely confused at Joseph's words.

"Oh, look, I have a soul." Joseph rolled his eyes. "Honestly, guys, it's not that difficult to realize-"

It was at this point that Joseph fell into a hole in the center of the Henge.

Elliot went down after him, sliding down... A ladder? Who put a ladder into a Stonehenge?

The ground was slightly rocky and almost frozen over. A large slab of 'don't screw with me' closed off any way forward. "Joseph, you okay?"

Joseph couldn't even nod, biting down.

"Answer enough." Elliot laid him flat and started to tend to him again. "I swear you must have the devil's own luck."

"SCREW YOU, ELLIOT!" Joseph finally screamed.

"Good, you're alive enough to scream. It still hurt?"

Joseph paused, flexing his leg. "I should be all right."

"Then follow me up."

"You got it, Fearless Leader."

Elliot stood Joseph up, and after limping a little, they started to climb the ladder back to the surface.

"So what's down there?" Skye asked.

"A big rock," Elliot replied.

"Hm..." Skye nodded.

"Come on guys, the lab's back this way."

Skye nodded, dumbly.

About ten minutes' grueling hike later, Skye looked utterly exhausted again. Thankfully, they were also back at the lab.

"Can we get me cold-weather gear yet?" Skye asked, looking a little pitiful.

"By all means," Elliot replied. He turned to the doctor, who directed Skye to a place she could change out of her wet things.

"Joseph, you and I had things to discuss?"

Joseph nodded, laying down the alloy samples he'd taken over the past two days. "I think these are..."

The technobabble quickly went over Elliot's ability to comprehend as they took apart the samples and analyzed them, molecule by molecule.

Skye returned. "What's going on?"

"They're trying to figure out the UFOs."

"How long will it take?"

"I'm not sure."

"Hey, old man!" Skye shouted into the conversation.

"Huh?"

"Where are the beds?"

"Oh, upstairs somewhere." Dr. Andonuts waved a vague dismissal. "So you can shape it with variable charges of electricity, but that doesn't seem to be what they're using it for, primarily..."

Skye shrugged. "Let's go. Still have the rest of that pizza?"

"Yeah, but it's probably frozen solid by now."

"Does it matter?"

"Not as long as there's a microwave."

So upstairs they went. The living area was acceptable, if cramped for four people. There was, indeed, a microwave, as well as a large refrigerator, suitable for two people to live off of quite comfortably for a month or two. Apparently the only flames were the Bunsen burners downstairs, which limited the menu a little.

However, frozen pizza defrosted and heated quite nicely, and a few minutes later, Elliot and Skye were looking at each other from across the table, each with a small plate of the day-old supreme.

"So this is the life of Riley, huh?" Skye asked.

"I imagine so." Elliot smiled. "Hell, I know I wouldn't mind a life of adventure. Not if it turned out like this is turning out."

"You haven't reached the end of the road yet," Skye warned.

"I know that better than you do." Elliot put a hand forward. "Four left... It's a long way to go, yet. And across who knows how much of the world." He grinned. "Just what I always wanted."

"The pizza's getting cold." Skye's hand was now up on te table as well.

"Do you particularly care?"

"Not really."

"Didn't think so." Elliot was looking right in Skye's eyes.

Skye was at a bit of a loss for words, until she hit on something. "So. Greece."

"Yeah, I can't wait. It's gonna be awesome. I might even spring for a ferry to Athens." Elliot paused. "And the ruins on Summers! It's going to be lovely this time of year and-"

Skye blinked, paused, took a breath. Okay. New plan. Needed new plan- she held up a hand. "I get it, I get it! There's just one problem."

"What's that?"

"Do you have a passport?"

Elliot thought for a moment. "Let me make a call. But first, do you have one?"

"I've planned ahead for a while. It's in my pack."

Elliot paused. "Wait, you had a passport already packed but you didn't think to pack your guitar?"

"What? I'm not God."

"Okay, point. I gotta make some calls, so..."

"Don't have a passport?"

"So don't have a passport," Elliot nodded.

"Does Joseph?"

"I'll check."

On second thought... Upon going downstairs, Joseph looked so intent on the analysis and with the moods Joseph had while he was working... Elliot quickly returned. "I'll check later."

"You, of all people, scared of someone else?" Skye laughed a bit. "That's the most ridiculous-"

"Then you go down and ask him."

"You're the one who regenerates, you go down and ask him."

"That's nonchalant. Besides, I can call Dad first, so..." Elliot rooted through his backpack for the small slip of paper with the numbers on it, and used a phone book to figure out how to call the US from Winters.

"It's late..." Elliot's father said on the other end of the line.

"Evenin', dad..."

"Elliot? Where are you?"

"Winters. New Starwick apparently. But that's not important. I need a passport. How fast can I get one from this side?"

"Wait, you need your passport? Hadn't you better call your mother about that?"

"Maybe, but I wanted to see if there were quicker arrangements."

"Ah." A pause on the other end of the line. "Where are you headed?"

The story took about ten minutes to tell; it had been a while since he had last called his father and rather a lot had happened. "So we're looking for the source, and Summers seems like the next step."

On the other end of the line, Elliot's father nodded. "Right. I see. See if your passport is still valid from your mother, I'll see what strings I can pull on this side to get you three a quick Grecian visa."

"Thanks." Elliot paused. "Later, Dad."

"No problem. Later, son. Be careful out there."

Elliot hung up the phone and called his home number. He might have been running up Dr. Andonuts's phone bill, but he didn't think Dr. Andonuts would particularly mind.

"Fullerby residence."

"Hey, Mom."

"Oh, Elliot! Where have you been?"

"Long story. I'm in Winters now... I'd like to get my passport over here if I could."

"Your passport?" Mrs. Fullerby paused. "Well, I suppose it's about the place somewhere, but-"

"I need it to stay in Greece a bit. Long story."

"Ah. Say no more. I'll send it by way of Tracy... You should have it soon, one or two days."

"Thanks, Mom." Elliot smiled. "Hey, could I talk to Sis for a minute?"

Tracy was on the line in a moment. "Hey, bro. Been a few days. What's happening?"

"Not much, getting my passport. How about you?"

"Not bad. How's that girl you were with?"

Elliot paused. "She's right here, actually."

"Ah. It's like that, is it?" Elliot could almost see the lecherous look on Tracy's face as she said it.

"No." Elliot deadpanned.

"Tch. At this rate I'm going to lose the bet with Mom."

Elliot almost hung up in frustration. "Listen, you, that's not what I wanted to talk about. It's about Picky... I haven't been able to contact him. I'd like you to see if you can get his cell phone number, anything like that."

"I'll see what I can do, big bro, but it's not looking too hot on this side."

"Thanks anyway." Elliot smiled. It would be just like Picky to cover his tracks.

"Anything else? Mom's waiting."

"No, that's it."

"Okay, here's Mom again." Tracy passed the phone back.

"Everything settled, Elliot?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little worried about Picky," Elliot replied.

"I understand." Mrs. Fullerby paused. "So, is that girl there? How is she?"

"She's fine. Look, do you two want to talk to her right now or something?

"What? Oh, no, that's not necessary."

"Then don't pester me about it. Honestly. By the way, is there really a bet?"

"Oh, of course not. You know how Tracy is."

"Yeah, all right..." Elliot nodded. "I'll see you when I see you, then."

"Do that."

"Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, Elliot."

Elliot hung up the phone. "With any luck, we'll only be stuck here a couple of days waiting on my passport."

"Great. Two days stuck with you and Joseph in the same room. Please tell me there's a shower."

"There had better be," Elliot replied. "I certainly wouldn't trust Dr. Andonuts if he doesn't."

"Huh?"

"Chemistry." Elliot nodded, leaning on the table.

Light dawned. "Ah. Yeah." Skye stood up, matching Elliot's eyes. "So are you going to quit stalling now?"

"I suppose I have to..." Elliot made no move to leave.

"Then go."

"But don't we have to finish first?"

"Finish what?"

"The... Pizza?" Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you're more tired than I thought."

"I'll be fine," Skye said, smiling. "If we finish this now, will you get going after that?"

"We'll see."

Both of them had apparently been more hungry than they had thought; the pizza was quickly polished off in silence. Elliot, mentally trying to review what the hell had just happened, didn't look up the entire time.

Skye, trying not to choke- either physically or mentally- did much the same.

Elliot came downstairs after that to find Joseph and Dr. Andonuts talking a little over coffee, a ways away from the alloys, which one of them had shaped into a large ribbon.

Joseph looked up from his coffee. "So Mom said that, did she?"

"Yes. It's kind of startling, seeing how similar you are now... Though I suppose it can't be helped..." Dr. Andouts spied Elliot on the stairs. "Oh, hello again. I trust everything is to your liking?"

Elliot paused, nodded slightly. "Can't find the shower, though."

"It's behind a panel on your left. Full bathroom, actually."

Elliot looked a little impressed. "Good to know. Uh, hey, Joseph?"

"What's up, Elliot?"

"Do you have a passport with you?"

Joseph paused. "Shit."

"Well, we might need to get hopping on that, mine is coming across the border express mail."

"Good, that will give me time to finish working on this." Joseph looked around. "So we'll be waiting on my passport to leave?"

"Or mine, whichever is later."

"Damn. I wanted a little more time than two days."

Dr. Andonuts shook his head. "It's okay. Time is where you buy it, but if it's of the essence, I understand."

Elliot found the panel, opening it. Not bad. Compared to the rest of the lab, it was positively decadent; a premium had been spent for the space here. There was even a small mirror, and some proper shaving gear.

"Hey! You guys had the pizza without me!" Joseph sounded betrayed.

"There's still four slices for you in my backpack."

"Oh. I'll get on that, then."

"You're welcome."

Elliot needed a shower, bad...

Joseph set his plate beside Elliot's, sitting across from Skye. "So, what have you two been up to?"

"Making phone calls, mostly," Skye replied. "Preparing for the trip to Summers."

"Arguing over who gets to come down to snap me out of being a mad scientist this time."

Skye paused. "Are you sure you're not telepathic?"

"Yes, I'm certain. But I am aware I can be a little... Off-putting at times."

Skye shrugged. "I've dealt with worse. This week, no less."

"Then please, don't treat disturbing me like a chore." Joseph looked away. "You're my friends."

"I didn't know you felt that way."

Joseph nodded. "It's not easy for me to say."

"I understand." Skye blinked, shook her head. "Sometimes things only get more complicated."

Joseph smirked. "Thanks for saying so. You two should get some sleep. Dad and I will probably rely on the Enertron for a while, so make whatever arrangements you like."

"Are you still trying?" Skye asked.

"Hm? No. I'm sorry if it came off like that. There may be, there may not." Joseph shrugged. "I figure, it's your problem now-"

"Thank you! It took you long enough to figure out!"

"- And nothing I do directly is going to change the facts."

"At least you're going to stop interfering," Skye said.

"Precisely." He waved a hand toward the back. "So go. Get some rest already. You need it."

"I'll do that. Be sure to stay up here long enough to tell Elliot-"

"Tell me what?" And there was Elliot, still dripping a little from his shower, leaning on the doorway and apparently not wearing much beyond the towel he had snatched from Dr. Andonuts. "By the way, shower's free."

Skye paused, mouth paused in whatever she was going to say, before blurting out, "Bedroom's open. Two beds. Pick one."

Joseph looked up from the pizza and smirked. "What she said. Dad and I are going to be relying on the capsule a bit."

"Ah. All right. I'll see about that. Probably need to ch-"

"Just go already!" Skye nearly shouted.

"Okay, okay, yeesh..." Elliot looked utterly confused, hauling up his backpack before leaving. "I suppose I'll see you in a bit then."

"OUT!"

Elliot hauled it out of there as fast as he could manage without having the towel fall off.

Skye blushed. "Honestly, how much of an idiot can he possibly be..."

"Yes, well, Elliot is Elliot," Joseph waved off.

Skye decided to pass a little time juggling knives to calm down before heading toward her nightly routine.

Joseph chuckled as she left. It would appear he wouldn't need to do much, in any case.

The bedroom had two beds, both quite large, presumably for Dr. Andonuts and a guest. Of course, with Dr. Andonuts using the capsule downstairs, that wouldn't be a problem.

Elliot had already picked a bed, and was trying to sleep in it even as Skye closed the door. Skye took the other one, and laid down to actually sleep.

* * *

Joseph, in the meantime, sat down with his father... And discussed plans. "So I have a gravitic compressor already. What I want to be able to do is really make something out of the alloy..."

He outlined his proposal out of about an hour's work with pencil and paper.

When he was done, Dr. Andonuts raised an eyebrow. "Dear heavens, son, what are you thinking of taking on, tank battalions?"

"If I have to." Joseph looked dead serious. "I'm almost positive what we face is..." Joseph shook his head. "It's ridiculous, without real evidence, but-"

"You're thinking this is the work of an extraterrestrial intellect." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

Dr. Andonuts sighed, and then nodded. "Joseph. Come with me."

Joseph looked around. "What's going on?"

Dr. Andonuts opened a door leading to a hidden elevator. "Something important. Normally, I'd have you sworn to secrecy in the name of the Winters government, but if you're going to be facing these life-forms on your own... You need to know."

Joseph paused, following Dr. Andonuts. "What's this about?"

"My life's work." The elevator started to descend, smoothly. "Well, my work for the past ten years. As you may or may not be aware... This is not the first time the governments of Eagleland and Winters have had an encounter with alien intelligence."

"When was this?"

"1984." Dr. Andonuts nodded. "It's been years since then, and we're just starting to get the technology to analyze the technology that landed. The information systems, especially, are resistant to any and all attempts to reprogram them- they seem to represent a singularity."

"Like this?" Joseph pulled out one of the computing crystals he had shattered back in Threed.

"Almost precisely..." Dr. Andonuts nodded.

"So why hasn't it been released to the public?"

Dr. Andonuts shook his head. "Eagleland and Winters both lack the infrastructure to develop it. Even the military can't use it properly- Modern weaponry needs modern support, and we can't do that with our technology." The elevator opened to a large... Room, was all that Joseph could come up with. "All we'd do is cause panic."

It was like walking into one of those cloning labs you saw on TV. Vats stood, empty, some ruined. Other problems- a large sort of donut, about two feet for the hole in the middle and an extra foot for the metal, laid upright. Terminals, dead. And everything, made out of the same curious alloy that Joseph had found in the UFOs and the Mani Mani statue. "This is..."

"A base of operations, abandoned before the 1984 incidents. It appears to have been an observation center. The Sky Runner? The capsule? Even the bike came from this. It uses only terrestrial metal, but..." Dr. Andonuts looked significantly at the small torus. "Through study, I reverse engineered the microfusion reactor that powers them all."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's important for you to know what you're up against. And... You're my son. I can't be objective. You have to know what we have the ability to do right now. I don't know if we can build what you're proposing. Not and keep it alive long enough to be useful."

"I can scavenge for maintenance parts."

"And then, when the invasion's over?" Dr. Andonuts asked. "What then?"

"That's my problem, not yours... Doctor." Joseph paused. "Honestly, can it be built?"

"With the compressor you have? Most certainly."

"Do your ethics get in the way?"

"Yes. Once we've shown it can be done, I fear for the future of warfare in this world."

"Then I'll do it myself! I need a trump card of some kind! Otherwise... All I'll ever be is dead weight... I'm barely pulling as it is." Joseph pointed upwards. "Once I'm out of grenades, there's nothing left! And what happens when they become completely obsolete?"

"Grenades won't be obsolete."

"Yes, they will. It was my trump card three days ago. Today, it almost couldn't do the job."

"If I help you... Can you promise me that you'll keep it a secret?"

"To the best of my ability, this will remain a private little war."

Dr. Andonuts paused, then nodded. "I can do it in three days."

"You've got two," Joseph said.

"Then we'd better get cracking." Dr. Andonuts extended a hand.

Joseph shook it. "Yeah."

Elliot awoke the next morning to the sounds of work going on downstairs. Skye was still sleeping like a rock, so he checked the pantry for a breakfast.

A small bowl of cold cereal later, Elliot checked in on Skye again. Still asleep. He smirked a little as he left her to it.

Two pieces of his flint spear in hand, Elliot walked downstairs. "Hey, guys, a bed's open!"

They both sort of nodded and then got back to work. Elliot took a look and had absolutely no idea what they were up to. "I'm heading out for a little."

The cold snap had apparently alleviated in the night, but Elliot still wore his leather jacket as he went to his baton work.

Skye, in the meantime, worked on juggling her knives in the common room.

Down time was not the easiest thing for the group to handle, especially cooped up in a living area that was only meant for two.

That wasn't the bad part, as far as Joseph was concerned, though.

The bad part was something along the lines of Joseph walking in on a staring contest.

Elliot and Skye were sitting across from each other, not even talking, as far as Joseph could tell; they were just staring at each other. But the fact was, he needed a seat, so... "Guys! Are you eating or not?"

Elliot didn't look up. "Huh? I suppose."

"Leave... The... Table."

"Huh? Oh. Right." Elliot still didn't move. "Truce?"

"For the moment." Skye and Elliot both stood up. "You're not going to win, you know."

"If you think I'm going to lose just because you say so..." They left the room, presumably to continue elsewhere.

About ten minutes later, halfway through his meal, Joseph heard a shout of triumph from Skye. "I win! No more towels in the corridors!"

"Don't be so cocky! I'll find a way to get back at you for this."

Joseph sighed as Skye came back into the room, followed closely by a flustered Elliot.

"Oh, come on, Elliot," Skye replied. "You sound like Dr. Claw."

"Hey! I liked Dr. Claw! Dr. Claw was awesome. Way better than Cobra Commander."

"Don't knock Cobra Commander!"

"At least Dr. Claw never got caught with his pants down on a beach vacation. And his exits were awesome."

Skye paused. "Okay, fair point, but Dr. Claw had to do things himself. What kind of Evil Overlord does things himself?"

"Apparently a smarter one than Cobra Commander. I remember that episode, the one where it was a race, right?"

Obviously Joseph wasn't going to get his meal finished here. Sighing, he picked up what was left and scarfed it on his way down back to work, but not before saying, "Screw both of you, Xanatos was way better."

Elliot and Skye watched him go. "What's eating him?" Elliot asked.

"I'm not sure..." Skye answered. "I kind of expected him to join in."

"More importantly, who's Xanatos?"

Skye looked at him. "Okay, clearly you need some remedial cartoon watching."

"Huh?"

"Just come on..." Skye dragged him by the hand to a small rec room. Many tapes lined the walls, which allowed only a small space for a TV and VCR. The tapes were mostly classic movies.

"Oh hey, Casablanca." Elliot smiled fondly. "Watched this when I was fifteen."

"Yeah, you probably saw When Harry Met Sally then too."

"Liked Casablanca better, actually."

"What, you didn't get into the fake orgasm scene?" Skye asked.

"Well, yeah, that's hilarious, but far beyond that, there's a reason it referenced Casablanca. It's the quintessential romance movie."

"Are you suggesting we watch it?"

"Maybe. Can you find something better?"

"I'm still holding out for the original run of Gargoyles."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, he seems to have the original run of Transformers. All the way up to the movie."

"Any G2?"

"... Are you stupid?"

"Hey, they were okay! Sure, they're not Optimus and Megatron, but nothing's Optimus and Megatron."

"I just said we had everything up to the movie."

"Oh. Well. Pop that bad boy in!"

It was, of course, a recorded bootleg; Dr. Andonuts seemed to have made a hobby of it in his lab. The chairs, again, were set out like Dr. Andonuts regularly expected at least one guest to arrive.

Elliot sat back, and, watching giant robots pummel the crap out of each other on screen, leaned back on the chair and relaxed. His hand reached out for Skye's. She looked at it for a moment, seemed to steel herself, and just let her hand hang on the end her chair. "Just watch."

Odd. But the day quickly passed as they made fun of the token human and watched Megatron bite it again and again.

By the time Joseph had found them, several hours later, they _were_ holding hands, and cheering whenever Bumblebee made an appearance.

He sighed. "How long have you been here, guys?"

Elliot looked back. "What is this, sixteenth episode?"

"Have you eaten yet?"

Elliot looked to Skye, who was looking at Elliot. Elliot sighed and stopped the VCR. "Damn, I knew I was forgetting something."

"Guys..." Joseph said. "Having me reminding you to eat is a bad thing." Joseph shook his head. "Just saying."

Elliot paused, stood up, stretched. "So did the mail come in yet?"

"Yeah. Nothing out of the ordinary for Dr. Andonuts, and nothing for any of the rest of us."

"Tch. Okay. Maybe it's time to actually have some breakfast. Minus the staring contest."

"It's five PM!"

"Brunch, then."

Joseph threw up his hands. "Fine, don't take care of yourselves. I give up." He left the rec room.

Over a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of water, Elliot found himself with nothing to say.

Quite frankly Fate had left behind a shoe, and Elliot felt the other one hanging over his head, waiting, watching, as if there were something special it wanted to wreck. Elliot fervently wished that Fate would just get it over with already and leave him alone. For once.

The feeling only increased as the passports arrived in the mail and final adjustments were made to the Sky Runner.

"Wasn't there some other project you were working on, Joseph?" Skye looked around in vain for the parts that had been strewn about the place not three hours ago. "What happened to it?"

"It's all taken care of," Joseph replied. "I'm ready to go." He shouldered the ALICE slightly as he said it.

"So, do we have our destination?" Skye said.

"Co-ordinates laid in," Dr. Andonuts said. "The seats should be a bit more comfortable, too."

Elliot nodded. "Let's get going before we think of something else."

Elliot and Skye climbed into the passenger seats, but Joseph lagged behind a bit. "Doctor."

"Joseph."

"Father."

"Son."

Joseph extended a hand, and Dr. Andonuts shook it. "Good luck out there."

"Where luck fails, science will provide." Joseph smirked as he climbed up into the pilot's seat of the Sky Runner. He flipped on the radio. "Final checklist set. Ground, do you read, this is Sky One."

"I read, Sky One," Dr. Andonuts responded.

"Final systems check ready in Sky One."

"Understood. Running through final checks."

The routine was almost calming to Elliot, each one ticked off in order, sometimes a slight change in how the Sky Runner sat, until finally, Dr. Andonuts said, "Sky One, all systems go for launch."

Elliot steeled himself for something terrible, a shaking, a rumbling, anything, as the main engines started, but there was nothing.

"We have main engine start," Joseph calmly rattled.

"Roof access open, you are go to launch, Sky One."

"Roger, ground, we have lift. What's our window?"

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One."

"We're clear, Ground. With any luck, we'll call you from Summers."

"Roger, Sky One. Maintain radio silence."

"Wilco." With that, Joseph switched off the radio. "Now let's see here..." The Sky Runner seemed to pause as he reaffirmed his flight plan, before moving into action.

The seat gripped into Elliot, as if the ground had suddenly shifted from below his feet to a place nearer the small of his back.

A moment later the Sky Runner snapped to an apparent stop- Elliot was shoved against the straps of his seat, thrown from backwards to forwards. While he recovered, Joseph noted: "Aaaah, this is your captain speaking, we've reached our cruising altitude of two hundred fifty feet above sea level, and our cruising speed of 625 knots. For those of you who don't know, that's around 765 miles per hour. You would now be free to move about the cabin, if it weren't the size of a postage stamp. I'll have to ask you to please keep your cell phones and lights in the cabin off to avoid detection by the authorities. Aaaah, thank you for flying with us; in about twelve to sixteen hours, we'll be landing in Greece."

Elliot contented himself with restarting his old training routine and finding the bathroom. Skye merely asked, "Will we be fed on this flight?"

"This pile can jump a lot harder than that." Joseph replied.

Skye paled. "On second thought, I'd like to find out how to strap myself in tighter."

"Good plan. Elliot, you too. I know you're a regenerator, but that won't help much if you're pulp. Oh, and bathrooms are in the back." Joseph unstrapped and helped them adjust the webs even further. "There we are, that's as secure as I can make you."

"Gah, I feel like a sardine," Elliot replied.

"Good, that means it's working right."

"I still think this is a little too tight."

"Better a sardine than a smear, Elliot. I don't think even you could come back from that." With that, Joseph went back to his seat. "By the way, feel free to use the bathrooms. I need to adjust course a little."

"Why?" Skye asked.

"To avoid mainland Europe."

Everyone took a sigh of relief when they slipped past Gibraltar with no incident, and an even better one as they crossed the Ionian.

It was rather unfortunate, then, that the radioscope decided to take that moment to go crazy-

END


	29. Tequila Sunrise

**Chapter 29: Tequila Sunrise**

The last thing Elliot remembered before waking up in the hospital was that the Sky Runner had taken rather a lot of damage, and that Joseph had mentioned something about the engine scramming. Of course, he filled in a little with the news, now thankful for the Greek he had picked up.

"_Police are swarming a small beach on Crete today in the city of Summers as reports of a weather balloon being downed there spread far and wide. Preliminary reports stated that three injuries, apparently beachgoers, were taken from the wreckage. They have been identified as tourists..._"

Elliot wondered who had pulled the strings to cover this one over, as he turned off the TV set.

"Hey, I was watching that!"

"Shut up, Joseph," Elliot said.

"Any landing you walk away from- Especially when you were shot down by enemy craft."

"Look, we're going to get uncomfortable questions from Customs as it is. Can we not talk about this while I'm trying to figure out how to explain my miraculous recovery?"

"Mr. Fullerby?" A voice that wasn't one of the doctors and certainly didn't seem happy was in the doorway.

Elliot looked at him. This was a man you could cut a mold from- given that the mold was 'Make me someone in a black suit. Make him imposing. Give him sunglasses. But most importantly, make him unnoticeable. No matter where he goes, he should blend in with a crowd. There should be nothing remarkable about his facial features, or build, or skin color.'

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Who wants to know?"

"I'm from a place called Early Light. We're what you might call... Protectors, of a sort. You seem to have attracted some unwanted attention." The man pressed on the bridge of his sunglasses.

"What's your point?"

"My point- is that you seem to have rather a lot of interest in things- technology- that isn't your concern."

Joseph paused. "I'm from An-"

"I'm well aware of your affiliations, gentlemen, it does not matter in this case." He paused. "As it is, I could just have you two deported, with Miss Polestar soon after; it might wrap up the situation nicely."

"Soon after?"

"She is still in critical condition, Mister Fullerby."

Elliot's fist clenched. "Now you see here, I'm not sure-"

Joseph held up a bandaged hand. "You would've already had us deported if that was what you wanted."

"Quite right, Mister Andonuts. My question is, how did you three get access to this technology?"

"We built it. We used it. We got shot down by someone." Joseph blinked. "End of story."

The man nodded. "Thank you. We had rather suspected. Mister Fullerby, you are associated with Star Labs?"

"Yes..."

"I want to transfer you to Early Light as soon as possible."

Elliot shook his head. "Impossible, I'm on my own investigations. I can't interrupt that for a trip to gods-know-where."

"Investigations? For Star Labs?" He looked a little surprised.

"Yeah. Didn't you spot the sensor watch?"

The man in black regained his composure. "Yes. Well. As may be, you might have caused mass panic without our help."

"Understood," Elliot said. "Can you get me out of here?"

"You can do that already." The man left Elliot to his own devices.

Elliot was not about to get violent. Still, it wouldn't hurt to at least help Joseph-

Or so it appeared until several orderlies showed up the moment he stepped out of bed. "You need rest, Mr. Fullerby..."

"I've gotten rest. I'm fine." Elliot said this with utter confidence. "Check me if you like."

"You were just hit by a lot of weather balloon, sir. I don't care. Get back to bed."

Damn, they weren't about to let him go quietly. "Then call a doctor, get him to check me out."

"We'll do that. Until then, go back to your bed."

"Tch. Fine." Not like they could kill him again, though the world certainly seemed to be trying real hard lately.

Moments later, the doctor, a little harried, showed up and shook her head after taking a second look. "Impossible. There were two broken ribs in there."

"Maybe you need to check your X-ray machine." Elliot sat up. "I'm fine. Now let me see my friend."

Skye was in much worse shape than Elliot, worse even than Joseph. Joseph might have gotten off light. Skye's neck was a huge bruise, and her arms didn't look too happy either.

And that was just what Elliot could see; he touched her hand and the whole mess unfolded before him like an open book combined with touching his own festering sore.

He winced at the pain of it, drawing his hand back. But... It was no use just waiting for her. He reached out his hand to touch hers again, slowly, guiltily, closing his eyes before the onslaught of the pain and brokenness of her body. He lasted a little longer before having to take his hand away.

This was not going to be simple...

Elliot took a deep breath, another to steel himself against the pain, and started to help Skye fix herself-

He still wasn't done when a light tap on the shoulder indicated that the doctor thought he had been sitting there way too long. "How long have I been here?" Elliot asked.

"Two hours." The doctor looked at the chart, blinked, looked surprised. "She's improving."

"I know."

The doctor took a double take at Elliot's condition. "Go home."

"No." Elliot leaned back against the wall of the ICU.

"You're exhausted. Go home."

"Not until she's in step-down."

"You don't get to decide that. Go home. Are you her contact?"

"There's no one else, unless you want to notify her family in the States. Well, there's Joseph, but he's in step-down."

"Are you all family?"

"No, but we're all we got." Elliot paused.

"Visiting hours are over-"

"Please don't ask me to leave them behind." He looked at the doctor, trying to plead with the implacable face in front of him.

"I'm sorry." The doctor shook his head. "There's a hostel nearby if you need a bed."

"Next door?"

"Close as you can get."

Elliot smiled thinly. "Thank you."

The doctor smiled back. "Get out of here."

Thankfully, Elliot still had his wallet, and the Traveler's Card proved to be extremely useful indeed- he had forgotten to get easily transferable cheques.

His jeans were ruined, but his leather jacket and his lucky shirt had, as usual, miraculously survived. He looked at himself in the mirror, and instantly understood why the doctor had sent him home. His face was paler than usual, haggard, drawn, with sunken eyes and a three-day beard. He couldn't help Skye like this...

The next day had the same routine, slowly, surely, step by step, second by ticking second.

Maybe minutes, maybe hours later, Elliot looked up again. Was he helping? Was she even in there anymore?

The doctor had ordered him to go to the commissary and rest. So he sat over a bagel, and partly morbid curiosity, and partly a desire to see if Skye was still holding together, caused him to extend the sense he had been using.

This was a mistake.

The immense pain in the hospital- hundreds of people, hurt, struggling to survive, struggling to heal, flooded his head, and he nearly collapsed off the chair he had been sitting on. If he had eaten anything, he would have been losing it now. As it was, he had broken out in a sweat, staring at a meal he no longer wanted to eat here, dry heaves hitting him, slowly passing.

And as he choked down his bagel, Elliot began to realize he could never save them all.

* * *

Skye had thankfully improved to step-down by the time another two hours had passed and the doctor on duty kicked him out again. By all rights, apparently, this was a positive miracle.

The guilt hit Elliot hard when he heard.

Joseph looked up from the Greek newspaper he had been reading to look at Elliot enter his room. Whatever acid he had reserved was suddenly replaced by "You look like Hell."

"Skye's out of the ICU."

"What does- oh. Right." Joseph blinked. "No wonder you look like Hell."

Elliot chuckled darkly. "Yeah. Hell."

"So how long-"

"I don't want to talk about it." Elliot interrupted. "She was... Really bad. And the sooner I can get out and stay out of this hospital, the better." He shuddered to emphasize his point.

Joseph nodded. "So how? We can't exactly write this off, Elliot, they're going to try and keep us here."

"Huh?"

"We're destitute, idiot." Joseph paused. "You're lucky you're out of step-down now. We need the money."

"What we need is our stuff back."

"That would be an added bonus, but we'd have to comb every inch of the beach. We'll never get it all back."

"Who said anything about 'all'? Those people from... Early Light, I think it was, they probably took a lot as it is. The prototype won't fly again."

"That still leaves the immense logistical problems in locating and dredging up our equipment-"

Elliot held up a hand. "Joseph. Imagine, for a moment, you're Skye. You have something buried. What do you do?"

"That's simple, I'd-" Joseph paused. "You wouldn't. There's no way to cover it up."

"Who said anything about _covering it up_?" Elliot grinned.

* * *

The next day followed in much the same manner; Elliot worked on both Joseph and Skye to get them healed faster, and continued to lay plans.

Skye had other ideas. "So I get why we're trying to do this, but- Why do we need to rescue our stuff, too?"

"It's good stuff! And some of it's not ruined, I'm sure of it."

"I still don't see a reason why we just can't buy a new wardrobe here."

"Your Nina costume's still under the sand somewhere."

"Bastard, I was trying not to think about that." Skye nodded. "Fine. I'll do it."

In the meantime, Elliot had managed to call up Eagleland Express; the traveler's checks proved invaluable in paying off the hospital care, though his bank account was now rather lean.

Customs had quietly stamped their visas while they were in the hospital, with the port of entry as Toto.

It wasn't until everyone was out of the hospital and ready to go that Elliot started to have second thoughts.

But... By then they were standing on the beach, Elliot in his dusty leather jacket, Joseph in a rather dapper tuxedo, and Skye, who had somehow managed to requisition a surprisingly stylish dress, though the sequins might have been a bit much. All of them wore old carnival masks.

People started to gather around. Joseph started with some of the more basic bits of sleight of hand, his patter flawless, his hands moving with a practiced air.

But the crowd looked like they had seen this sort of thing before out of street magicians.

Joseph nodded. "Now. I'm sure many of you know about that crashed weather balloon a few nights ago. Terrible thing. Terrible. Those poor tourists. Why, they're stranded in the hospital. I was hoping to find a way to cheer them up."

The crowd hushed, and they could hear the sands behind Joseph shifting...

Hours before, they- or rather, Skye- had found the luggage compartment of the Sky Runner, and the strongbox was still intact, probably with most of their stuff also intact.

"Through hours of meditation, and practice, I have found where, buried deep beneath the sands, many of the items they carried with them lie. I can only hope now, that these items are intact."

Joseph started to look pained. "I'm sorry, I- Must concentrate... May I ask for complete silence..."

Elliot was sweating it under the mask. _Oh, brother. He's laying it on thick_. The sand kept shifting its load on him, and the strongbox was too heavy to move without getting the sand out of the way. He'd finally settled on a way to pull it out, and that was causing a large welling.

Joseph slowly raised his left hand in a clawlike manner, the strongbox finally resolving itself out of the sand. Joseph fell to his knees. Elliot sweated the small stuff, like making sure that the drachmae and dollars hit the upturned cap.

Mostly tourists, of course, that had turned out for it; the flash bulbs were everywhere and going off. The money they had gotten would just about one night's stay at the hotel. Not bad for half an hour's work.

Once the crowd had dispersed, Elliot wiped away an imaginary tear from his mask. "God bless the tourist tendencies of the upper-middle class."

"You're a twit, Elliot," Skye said, smirking. "And I can't believe that actually worked."

"It was a new trick. Of course it would work! The point was doing it so Early Light doesn't get uppity again." Elliot gripped one end of the strongbox. "Come on, help me with this and we can sleep in a real bed tonight."

"This still seems dishonest..." Skye noted.

"What? We told the exact truth!" Elliot grinned. "We are helping those poor tourists in the hospital. Us."

"But..."

"More importantly, where did you get the dress?"

"Amazing, my friends!" A shortish Agean man patted Skye in the back, causing her to drop the strongbox. "I have been in this business a long time and I still do not know how you made the effect."

Elliot was about to open his mouth, but he man waved him off. "No, no, do not tell me, I'll figure it out!"

Skye hiked a thumb at him. "This is Nestor. He's on a paranormal newsgroup."

"Skeptic?" Joseph asked.

"Oh, of course! It does not pay in this business to be absolutely accepting." He grinned. "I was a magician once. I must say, you are very smooth, Mr...?"

"Andonuts. Joseph Andonuts."

Elliot waved. "Elliot Fullerby."

Nestor looked slyly at Elliot. "You are the secret to the act, are you not? You must be! So scruffy, there must be more here than meets the eye!"

Elliot smiled and decided to play along. "You've guessed it."

"No no, do not tell me!" Nestor waved his arms. "I am sure I will figure it out eventually, that is half the fun! In fact, I am going to let you return the rentals free of charge. Well done! Come to my shop!"

The magic shop was small and cramped, with all sorts of effects and special objects, arcane and useless to Elliot, sitting about the place.

"You can change over there. So, it was a conveyor, right?"

Elliot shook his head, placing the mask on the counter and looking about the place. "Nope."

"Ah, I am certain I will find the answer to the enigma soon."

And then it jumped out at him. Was that an... Alligator? Stuffed? Hanging from the ceiling? "Uh, what's with the-"

"It is a requirement of the business," Nestor said, waving a hand. "And it was a small motor in the strongbox."

"Wrong."

"I will get it eventually!" Nestor exclaimed.

Joseph stepped out first. "A pity, I did like being that dapper for once."

Elliot looked at him. "Your normal clothing isn't that much different."

"Ah! I have it! A fan would cause the welling perfectly!"

Elliot paused, then gave Nestor a significant look, followed by two taps on the nose.

"Ah! Of course, sir! Your secret is safe with me. I would not be a supplier for long if I were not trustworthy!"

The money was enough for a hotel, but with the hospital depleting their war chest, that money was almost all there was. With it, they had to re-arm and potentially replace all the things they had lost in the crash.

A small three-bed hostel room proved sufficient, and Elliot forced the strongbox with a point burst.

Most of their things were intact, but Elliot's spear was now splinters and sawdust. Skye's beret had somehow miraculously survived, and the PASGT and the ALICE were fine.

Some of the fragile things Joseph had picked up were irretrievably broken; the iron in particular was in pieces, and the grenade launcher had had it. Joseph didn't seem too concerned about the latter, but some of the other things, he was already holding as if considering...

"I'll need some workspace, Elliot."

"We'll find it later." Elliot smirked. "Besides, we're in Summers. I don't know about you, but I'm in no rush."

"If they find us-"

"We'll deal with them then," Elliot interrupted Skye. "Meantime, we're here on the cheap."

An hour or two's exploration led to several interesting bits, not least of which were a small coffee shop and a swimsuit shop that wasn't deliberately catering to the tourists. A few restaurants with expensive menus for nothing particularly special and a souvenir shop in the lobby of a local hotel were also interesting, but entirely out of the crew's price range.

At least that was how it seemed before Elliot headed back to Eagleland Express and found that his balance was much higher than before.

A quick call to his father explained. Elliot thanked his father profusely, slowly hung up the phone, and turned to he others. "We've got a decision to make, guys."

"Hm? What's that?" Joseph asked.

"We've been reimbursed for the hospital expenses. Which were... Substantial."

"So that means we're flush again?"

Elliot nodded. "So the question is, do we want to stay at the hostel for now? Or find a small hotel? Or take the big one we saw earlier that was clearly overpriced? Or have a fourth option?"

"So what's your thoughts?" Skye asked.

"Well, I wouldn't mind staying at the hostel a while- I don't know when I'm going to get access to another ATM... Or another phone." Elliot stretched. "Besides, we've got the lay of the land, and compared to some of the other places we could stay, the hostel's closer to the waterfront."

"Well, I'd agree with you, except that I'm tired of cramped conditions with you two stuck in the same room with each other," Joseph noted. "So I'm all for the overpriced beauty."

Skye shook her head. "I've had enough tourist traps for one trip. I say we find a small place."

A few minutes of bandying about reasons proved ultimately fruitless. Elliot waved his hand. "Okay, we need to let chance decide. Or maybe a staring contest?"

"No," the other two said immediately.

Skye paused. "We could do Rock-Paper-Scissors... Wait, no..."

Elliot proposed, "Or flip a coin... Wait, that won't work either. And we may as well discard dice..."

Joseph noted, "Well, if all else fails I could build a quick random number generator... Wait, no..."

Elliot blinked. "Hey, do you guys know how to play Pinochle?"

Skye blinked at Elliot. "Do you?"

"Well, no..."

"Then why did you ask?"

"There's a pinochle deck hanging in the window," Elliot shrugged. "Thought it might work out better."

Joseph paused. "Maybe not but I think I've got an idea." He pulled aside a random tourist, and produced a deck of cards. "Pardon us, ma'am, but could you shuffle this deck for us?"

Elliot gave her a quick once-over, noted the plastic surgery scars, blanched and left it at that.

She blinked. "Why?"

"We're having a dispute," Joseph supplied.

"Then why not flip a coin?"

Elliot shook his head. "Won't work."

"Or rock-"

Joseph held up a hand. "Trust us, we've been over this. Could you humor us, please?"

Several moments later, Skye drew high card from the top of the deck. "Eat it. Ace of Spades."

Elliot shrugged. "Small hotel it is."

The waterfront provided a few small meeting places for businessmen; one of them was quite reasonable and was open for the week. Elliot grinned. It was a very nice place. And it wasn't even chintzy.

"We'll take two-"

"Three," both Joseph and Skye said at once, then looked at each other, a little perplexed.

"Uh, three rooms," Elliot amended, sheepishly.

Three rooms it was, right next to each other, with adjoining doors. Joseph took the center room without argument.

Okay, so Joseph didn't want to stand another night sleeping near Elliot; what was Skye's deal?

At least they didn't share bathrooms; even two days of that had put everyone on edge. Maybe that was it, Elliot decided, and started going over what he needed to replace...

Skye, meantime, looked over her things. Now, she'd known she was heading to a place with a beach, where was that...?

Wait. No. She'd wanted to get it... But... Damn Monotoli! She'd have to find one in this tourist trap.

Elliot was out the door at nearly the same time as Skye was, and they gave each other a searching look. "Where are you off to?"

"Swim shop," Elliot said, after a long moment.

"Same here."

"Well, I see no reason not to-"

"Precisely. Besides, you have the money."

"Fair point." Elliot nodded. "Let's see what we can find."

The storefront and the inside of said storefront of the swim shop was... Different.

"Um. Well."

If the light bikini in the window was only lip service to Eaglelander mores and fashion, what was inside removed all pretense; there was perhaps two things that Skye thought were decent to wear, both of them better suited for competition than showing off. Not that Skye cared. She took the darker of the pair- a one-piece that would not have been out of place in an Olympic telecast.

Elliot had a harder time, but eventually found a pair of trunks that weren't too bad; they felt a little tight but would have to do.

The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow. "You know there aren't any public pools nearby?"

Skye gave a nervous sort of smile. "Yes, I'm aware. Thank you."

As the keeper had to look up 'what in the world the prices are for these, tourists, I swear,' Elliot and Skye started in.

"You know, we probably could have avoided all this if you'd told me we were heading here..." Elliot noted, innocently enough.

"Well, do you want me reading your future or not?" Skye asked.

"Well, no, but something offhand-"

"Listen, I may not be the tightest box in the barrel but at least I don't think PSI is some kind of genie."

"What was that?"

"You heard me, Wolverine," Elliot winced at Skye adopting the name. "You can't go five minutes without going to the well. Hell, you're levitating right now!"

"I am not!" Elliot looked down, as if to make sure. "And maybe you've had time to deal with freaks, ghosts, and criminals, but I'm a little new at this, OK? I still think I can go longer than you can without going to the well."

"Like you'd know."

"You've probably been at it so long you do some pretty common things without even realizing it." Elliot put a hand on his hip, gesturing a little with his other hand. "Knife recovery, for instance."

"_What_. Why... Why... I'm so sure that I can go longer than you that if I do... I'll..." Skye looked around, found an unmatchable bottom she'd be absolutely mortified to be in and pointed to it. "I'll wear _that_."

Elliot was stunned. Quick, come up with a counter for it! He saw a rather short bottom, cut a lot closer than the trunks he had bought, almost to the bone, designed to show off, a racy bright red. He pointed to it. "Then if you win, I'll wear that."

"Done!"

"_Done!_"

It was around this point that their brains caught up with their mouths. Both said at once, as an addendum, "Until we leave Summers."

It was around this point their libidos caught up with their brains and lightly poked it on the shoulder with the mental image of what the other would be wearing if they lost. Their heads turned over a bit as they both were looking at something entirely different, though not entirely unrelated.

About half a minute later, the shopkeep politely cleared his throat. "Are you ready to pay?"

"Yes please!" Both said at once, Elliot forking over the bills in short order, glad to be out of that one.

The shopkeeper watched them go, rolling his eyes. "Eaglelanders. Such prudes..."

Joseph was waiting in the bistro nearby, sipping o a cup of coffee. "Have everything?"

"Uh, yeah," Elliot said, nodding.

"Heading to the rooms?"

"Vaguely, why?" Elliot looked a little oddly at Joseph.

"No reason," Joseph waved a hand. "Just so I know where to start looking if you don't show up again."

"Huh?"

Joseph pointed the opposite direction. "Beach is that way."

"Ah. Right. Beach."

Joseph smiled knowingly. "Run into the local sunbathers, did we?"

"Swim shop," Skye noted, and then scarpered with the bag.

A moment later, Elliot noticed. "Hey, get back here!"

When Elliot had caught up, Skye was sitting on a chair in the lobby. "So, Elliot, when did you plan on telling me about this?"

"No fair, I just found out myself." Elliot shook his head. "In any case, you have my trunks."

Skye tossed them at him. "Can we just call this off?"

"Are you saying you're willing to lose?"

"Hell no!"

"Well, I certainly don't intend to." Elliot grinned. "So if you don't want to do as the Romans do, best keep a cap on your temper."

With that, Elliot thought now was a good time to find a nice place to lay back and relax.

The beach was positively littered with what looked like unattended lounge chairs. Elliot changed behind a convenient rock, took one and lay back. Felt like a public one, what with the hardness common to all public benches and the slight disrepair. He smiled, put on his sunglasses and began to doze off. Before he did, he saw Skye pass by, out of the corner of his eye, looking a little bashful in the one-piece as she went out to the coast. Didn't look half bad.

He wasn't sure how long he'd dozed off when a tall, very buff, contemptuous sort of fellow woke him up. "Hey, twinkie. Move." This was in English.

Elliot smirked, looking him over. "And what cliché-ridden 50's surfer movie did you crawl out of?"

"Beach Blanket Bingo, now move."

Elliot shook his head. "You're lucky. I'm in a good mood. The scenery's nice, the sun's good and warm, and this is a nice spot to relax. There's one just like it not twenty yards down. Empty, too."

"No, I think you should go to that one."

Elliot paused for a moment, thought of something. He slowly removed his sunglasses, and brought out the 'something needs to die' look.

The guy backed up a bit. "Uh..."

"There's a chair not twenty yards from here."

"I think I'll relax there."

"Good man." Elliot put his sunglasses back on and relaxed once more.

Now, let's follow this poor fellow as he has not learned his lesson. Because here comes a lovely woman in a one-piece, blonde, brown eyes, athletic to a T, has probably been swimming in the Aegean for the past hour.

He put on his best charm. "Well, hey there, hon, how about we-"

Skye socked him in the face. Hard, right in the KO spot. "Outta my way, pencil neck, I got a bet to win."

She smiled as she approached Elliot, watching the rather rattled tough guy leave, sitting on the side of Elliot's chair. "Hey there."

Elliot lowered his sunglasses. "And to what do I owe this visit?"

"Oh, nothing, just that I've won." Skye was looking at him.

"You did not," Elliot said, smirking.

"Oh, but I did." Skye smirked back, leaning back a little, then turning so that she rested on one hand, over Elliot.

"No, I still think you haven't."

Skye touched his neck, curling up his cheek, removing his sunglasses. "Then you'd better show me how you could get that guy to buzz off without going to the well."

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Do it or forfeit."

"All right..." Elliot paused, then shot her the same look he'd just shot the idiot.

She backed away a little. "Uh. That'll do."

"Good, it takes some doing when I'm in a good mood." Elliot retrieved his sunglasses and put them back on. "Bet's still on?"

"Yeah, bet's still on. I'mma swim some more. Call the morgue if I'm not out in two hours."

"Sure, sure, get out of here."

Skye walked away as calmly as her confusion and fear would allow her. That was the same look, no doubt about it. She dived into the ocean with abandon, trying to forget the look even as it seared itself on her memory; it seemed like the future would refuse to change.

After the swim, Skye changed back into her street clothes- battered though they might be- and walked down to the bistro, took a cup of coffee, and took in the view. It was a nice place. It might not be quiet, but at the very least it was peaceful.

Added bonus, Joseph seemed to have wandered off somewhere, so she didn't need to worry about deflecting useless questions.

Men with cameras were nearby, walking the streets. Skye paid no attention to them, though she could tell they were following women. The fact that they were crashing and burning made her grin, just a little bit.

At least, until they started to cross the road. She recognized them immediately, though from _where_... Wait. Now she remembered. Those guys.

Well, the most obvious way to stop them in their tracks would be to just-

Shit.

The bet.

Well, that and it was broad daylight in front of several hundred bystanders.

Skye buried her face into her coffee cup as they started to confer with one another, probably regarding her. She could tell, it was a low-level murmur of general worry.

Eventually, curiosity won out over outright fear and they approached her. "Hey, are you that girl from Fourside? That was some wild ride..."

Well, if Elliot could do it... She schooled her look into an imitation of Elliot's glare.

It apparently didn't work so well. "Heh, that's a pretty cute look you got there, so how about it? We can go have some fun, eh?"

"I'm giving you a chance. Get out of here." Skye returned to her cup of coffee.

"You weren't this bad in Fourside. Don't be a tuna head!"

Okay. The proposition was fine; she was used to jerkwads. But the Maniac Mansion reference went too far.

She stepped inside, they followed her. The door shut behind them. Skye sat in a corner, calmly drew a knife such that they could see it, but the establishment could not. "See, now you can't leave."

They looked around. The room was deserted. "Now, hold on, we don't do the kinky things-"

"Turn off the camera."

"We can't do-"

"Turn it off. Now."

As they did, Skye slowly produced the rope out of her other pocket. "You have no clue what you have wrought..."

They were out of there so fast that Skye didn't even bother to throw the knife, instead putting it away, and going back to her coffee with a grin.

A few hours later by the sun's marking, Elliot rose, stretched, and silently thanked the umbrella that he now didn't have to deal with half his body being sunburnt. Which reminded him that he needed to get some of that before he went out any longer. He hadn't seen Skye come back, but he'd been mostly dozing off and relaxing for much of that time, no questions asked.

In any case, it was probably time to head in. He slung his clothes over himself, changing back somewhere out of the way.

And then he remembered there was something he needed to do.

With something of a heavy heart he went back to his room, and searched his backpack for the one thing he had left in there a while ago.

A single, old Cuban cigar.

For all that the beach had been relatively packed in the hours before sunset, they now seemed almost deserted. Maybe the party scene was elsewhere. Didn't matter. Elliot lit a match, which lit the old, dry Cuban. But, come to think, wasn't that just how he liked them, just short of tinder?

Elliot coughed a little as he got it going, then set it down on the sand. "Hey. Clemens. I want a word with you."

Clemens, if he was there, said nothing, so Elliot continued. "Summers, huh? What a long, strange trip it's been. I remember you telling me we'd both get here, life would be golden. Guess you were half right."

Elliot railed at the ocean. "What the hell, man? You were the Untouchable! The Invincible! Undefeated. We all looked up to you. Maybe you weren't the good guy we thought you were- I know you weren't, now. We all wanted to be you. But then you got punked, and now I am you. The untouchable, the invincible.. Ness. Where did we go wrong?"

Elliot waved a hand. "You've heard me blather on long enough. The cigar's a gift for you. Hope you smoke 'em hot, wherever you ended up." A final pause. "Later, Clemens."

The hotel found Joseph waiting outside his room for Elliot. "Hey man."

"Oh hey. What's up?"

"I was thinking of exploring the ruins near here. There's a tour group."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Joseph shrugged. "Who knows, it'd get us leads just as likely as any other direction."

"Sure, I'll play along. You told Skye yet?"

"Hm? Oh, she shut up her room for a bit." Joseph shrugged.

Again, Elliot was a little confused as to what was going on, but left it at that.

Skye knocked on Joseph's door. "Come on in."

She entered, looking Joseph dead in the eye. "I might have made a terrible mistake."

"How so?"

"I just can't deal with him right now, Joseph, could you keep him away from me a few days?"

"Elliot?"

Skye nodded.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." Skye nodded her head. "I need to clear my head... I'll be back with you guys soon. Just try and keep him from finding out, he'll freak otherwise." Skye closed the door behind her.

Joseph raised an eyebrow and smiled. Skittish? Skye? He wouldn't have thought it. But this changed the game, immensely. He'd have to turn it around. Okay. He had it.

Elliot awoke the next morning to the sound of Joseph knocking on the door. "It's too early..."

"Too bad, we'll miss the tour otherwise."

Elliot slouched over to the door, opened it. "Okay, let's go."

"Not like that you're not. Take five minutes to change."

"Will they care?"

"No, but your bleeding feet will. Now _march_."

Elliot got to it, and had thrown on some clothes and somehow managed to shave in the meantime. This time it was newer, solid Levi's and an old-fashioned muscle shirt, black, of course.

Joseph was just as dapper as usual; but without the tie and the chest opened a bit.

"Are you trying to loosen up?"

"I see no reason why not."

"I can, you look like a reject from the 70's."

"That bad?"

Elliot nodded. "Sorry to say, man."

Joseph blinked. "Give me a minute."

As they got to the tour group meeting area, Elliot soon understood the reason for Joseph's loosening up.

The tour group was composed, over three-fourths of it, by women.

One in particular- brunette, brown eyes, the kind of natural body that Scandinavians wish they all had- caught Elliot's attention. This was because she was approaching. She spoke in perfect French to Joseph, who responded in kind. She looked at him, saying in Greek- albeit with an atrocious French accent such that she was barely understandable- "So you are Elliot? I have heard a lot about you."

"Joseph, who is this woman and why is she speaking Greek to me so horribly?" Elliot grinned.

"Ah, right. Elliot, this is Joan." He shrugged. "We met yesterday."

Elliot nodded, switched to Greek. "Hello, Joan. Ready to go?"

"Odd for an Eaglelander to have such command of any language. Were you taught by a Macedonian?"

"She never told me. Do I sound like a Macedonian?"

The tour of the ruins began as the sun rose, and Elliot wondered what, precisely, Joseph told her.

Joseph helpfully slipped him a note before he could ask:

_No powers. Said you deal in the esoteric. Bit of an archaeology buff. Former RA. _

Elliot nodded as he put away the note. He could build on that, easily-

Wait, had someone just broke off from the tour group? He looked. Yes, two of the men. The tour guides were clueless.

Elliot spotted them after a little footwork, on a high point above them. It was times like this he wished he had a duster, but he always thought he looked a little idiotic in them.

And then he remembered the bet. Joseph caught up to Elliot, who was still looking at them as they searched for a good place to take something. "So what's the plan?" Elliot asked, stooping for a stone- a proper one.

"The plan is that I contact the authorities," Joseph noted. "Otherwise questions will be asked."

"So how do we keep them here?"

"I'm working on it..." Joseph was rummaging through his backpack for something. "Distract them."

"Right." Elliot worked down the side of the hill, and the guys were talking to each other. In English.

Eagleland tourists. Elliot cursed under his breath. Well, fine. He threw the rock, which hit one of them with a loud SPACK.

He looked around quickly. It came from behind him. The man motioned to the other, who followed him.

Elliot was already gone when they took a look, already done a runaround. He stooped for another stone. No, not that one, that was a pottery shard... That one.

POP. Elliot managed to get the first one in the back of the head again, which caused him to turn around and start to argue with his friend...

The two of them were now plastered to the ground courtesy of a high-speed... Goo of some sort was all Elliot could come up with. It was even green and glowed a little in the sunlight.

And they were, indeed, quite thoroughly stuck- their best attempts to claw out of their sticky situation only met with a second blast that pinned their arms down.

At this point Joseph called out. "I'd say a pithy line here, but eh. It's been done. The authorities have been notified. Good luck."

With their shouts of protest sounding behind Elliot and Joseph, they silently integrated back into the tour group.

"Please tell me that stuff's not permanent."

"Nah, it'll evaporate in about half an hour. But by then, they'll be found."

"Wow. How'd you get that idea?"

Joseph muttered something under his breath. Elliot perked up his ears. "Huh?"

"I said Spider-man comics. Shut up."

Elliot shrugged. "Do you see me arguing? It's a great idea. Use it."

They had now caught up with the tour group, and integrated quietly into the crowd. Except for Joan. "I trust you kept him from doing anything stupid?"

Joseph nodded. "And that's a chore in itself." Joseph quietly put the steamer away.

Joan sighed. "Eaglelanders."

"Hey. Those guys were going to vandalize the ruins."

"You still should have called the authorities." Joan shook her head, angrily. "Thinking you can take the law into your own hands, what were you thinking? Stupid cowboy."

"I didn't take the law into my own hands!" Elliot said. "We called the authorities, our job is done here."

"You're as bad as the bulldogs before you!"

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Thinking you own the world, stomping on other people's laws and customs-"

"You know I'm just going to let you rant. Obviously nothing I say is going to convince you." Elliot waved and caught up with Joseph, who was looking over something.

Joan looked absolutely dumbfounded for a moment before catching up.

"Yeah, I suppose it is pretty cool, Elliot," Joseph said after a moment, "But... I just thought it was odd."

"Hm, yeah, but all the years that go by in this... One spot. It's amazing. And still the Minoans are here." Elliot grinned. "I love this stuff."

"You're also running behind," Joan noted. "The tour is going on ahead."

"Gah. Ah, well, time to pack up." Elliot continued walking along with Joseph.

"Well?" Joan asked, a little testy.

"Listen, if you are waiting for me to apologize for my entire country, you have a long wait, because I cannot do that." Elliot said. "If you are waiting for me to apologize for ditching you, we never left the tour group. And if, for some reason, you are waiting for me to apologize for reacting to culture shock, then I actually do apologize that I can't synthesize all the different customs immediately and ask you to bear with me while I do. I am a little new here."

Joan paused, tried to find a hole in the argument. Opened her mouth, closed it, and said, in a huff, "Well, this doesn't change what you did, but I suppose it's a start."

"Thank you," Elliot said, with a little relief. "Let us enjoy the tour, shall we?"

Though Elliot regularly got to the front of the group and lingered all the way to the back while looking at things in wonder, Joseph and Joan kept up with him the entire way, each bringing their own perspective to the history.

And, as the sun began to set, they made their way back into town, talking like old friends, though Joan's broken Greek- asking Joseph hurriedly in French for how to say things and other problems- still gave things away.

"Shall we stop for coffee?" Elliot asked. They agreed, and the small corner bar held Skye as well. Either she didn't notice him waving, or didn't want the company. Odd.

"Who was that?" Joan asked, watching Skye go.

"A friend of ours," Joseph supplied. "Usually doesn't keep to herself so much."

Joan shrugged. "Such is life."

"Joseph, did she discuss anything with you?" Elliot asked.

"No, not really," Joseph lied, casually.

"Hm." Elliot paused. "Well, I suppose she will figure it out herself."

The conversation over coffee turned to things back home, Elliot especially smashing a lot of stereotypes with mad glee, noting, for instance, that he had joined the Army as a way to pay for his education. An outright lie, of course- and in more ways than one- but as long as he was keeping up with what Joseph said, he may as well say what made sense for him. He slowly started to build a house of cards, starting with how he started traveling with Joseph and Skye and moving up from there.

Joseph caught on quickly. They were touring Europe, and had, in fact, started in Athens a few days ago; once they were finished with their rounds in Greece they'd move on to the rest of Europe. They'd met here shortly before the weather balloon crashed, and that was quite a hubbub, wasn't it?

"She is staring at us," Joan noted.

Elliot tried to look back at Skye to see what was up. She'd already turned back to whatever she'd been doing earlier, apparently unconcerned.

Joan paused. "Joseph, I think we should go to a different table and talk for a while longer, yes? Oh, and Elliot-"

"What?"

"Don't go anywhere."

"Uh... All right. If you say so..." Elliot stayed seated. So great. He'd been ditched. True, Joseph was a smart man, but still. He'd been ditched. He paused, reviewing this. It's not that it was unfair, so much, as that it seemed out of place. Why the hell were they leaving him alone? Some friends, indeed.

At least until Skye showed up. "I'm checking out a lead in Toto tomorrow. You two are coming with me. Inform Joseph."

With that, she walked off.

And what the hell was with Skye?

Dammit, Summers was supposed to be a resort. Elliot shook his head, walked over to Joseph and Joan. "Well, I'm about to turn in. We'll be heading for Toto tomorrow." Elliot stretched. "Make of that what you will."

Joseph shook his head as Elliot left, and turned to Joan. "Would you help me with those two?"

"I do not think they need the help," Joan stated simply. "But you, my friend..." Her hand touched his.

Joseph smiled. "We should meet some other time. I am still traveling with them; they are my friends."

"They can wait a little, can they not?"

Joseph nodded...

* * *

They met him in the lobby of the hotel, looking a little disheveled.

Elliot nodded. "Another inspiration?"

"You could say that," Joseph said with a slight smirk.

Skye looked at Joseph. "You can tell Elliot your war story later. I have a lead."

Joseph looked a little embarrassed. "No, it was nothing like that..." But he followed just the same.

"So where are we going, anyway?" Elliot asked

"Well, I've found there's a Scaraban exhibit in the museum in Toto." Skye didn't turn around to say it, just keeping up a heavy stride.

"Why so fast?" Elliot asked.

"It's not exactly the easiest exhibit to get to."

"Is this why you're wearing the black today?"

"No, actually, I just ran out of wardrobe. We need to do some laundry." Skye shrugged.

"Oh, see, here I thought maybe you'd gotten a call about your poor grammama or something," Elliot said.

"Elliot?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." Skye didn't even slow down.

Elliot paused a moment. What was with her today? Ever since... Aw, crap. He needed to apologize for that. Problem was, she _did_ ask for it, quite literally. What, was he supposed to have just given in? Elliot wasn't looking where he was going, such that Joseph kindly directed him out of the way of a light-post.

"Hey, would you mind not-" The cell phone rang, interrupting him. "Phone call?"

He picked up on it. "Hello?"

"Oh, hello, this is Maxwell Labs. No needto hand it over to Joseph, I just need the line."

"Uh, all right..." Elliot held the phone to his ear.

"Now to see if this will work:" Maxwell started to rattle something off, a rehearsed speech. "Hi, everybody. Yes, I mean you out there, at the keyboard. Maxwell Labs here. We've been having quite the adventure so far, huh? But I've got something to ask all of you. If you have any messages- anything at all- to say to us- all of us, or Elliot, Skye, and Joseph- please, email me. My address is labsm dot fabricati at gmail dot com. I'll repeat it later, so don't worry if you don't do it immediately. But **don't- forget**!"

With that, Maxwell Labs hung up the phone.

"Uh..." Elliot paused, looking at the phone like it was insane. "Is Maxwell on medication?"

"Not that I'm aware."

"Maybe he should be..." Elliot put the phone in a convenient pocket, and took a look around for the first time since they had started walking. The building they were outside was plain white, austere, with a single guard standing outside. There wasn't even a sign anywhere to indicate what it was. Skye tugged him along after he got a good look. "Hey now!"

"It's probably just some lounge or something, we're not there yet," Skye said, letting go like hot iron after making sure Elliot was following her again.

Around half an hour later on foot, they came to a temple-like structure that proclaimed itself to be the "Cretan Museum of Natural and Human History", in Greek and French over the arch, and several other languages at the side on a helpful white panel.

The theme was definitely Scaraba, but that was all Skye could have gleaned, much of the information was all Greek to her. Elliot slowly deciphered it. "Hm. It's a traveling exhibit. How unlike Scaraba to allow the national treasures abroad. Oh, wait, no, this is the British Museum."

"So it's on tour?" Skye asked.

"Yeah. It'll be here another month or two." Elliot glanced again at the pamphlet in his hands. "Hm, it's closed today."

"It is?" Skye asked. "Why?"

"Oh, they're probably trying to take care of everything. This isn't the ideal environment for mummies and such." Elliot grinned. "Lucky us!"

"You're just scared," Skye said, smirking, then schooling her expression down.

"Well excuse me, dead things just seem to like messing with us! In fact, inanimate objects in general seem to like messing with us." This was more familiar ground.

"Enough. If it's not open today, we can at least see why." Skye led the rest of the troupe upstairs.

And this- This was the center of it all. A large double door marked "Traveling Exhibit", upstairs, with a velvet rope anda guard posted.

When asked, the guard said, "They are working on preserving the exhibit as much as possible. There is only one viewing hour today, and it is booked solid. Dreadfully sorry, but you will simply have to wait."

Elliot lookd him over, raised a hand for a moment, shook his head. "Okay, let's go."

Joseph looked at Elliot, then back to the door. "With all due respect, Fearless Leader, what the hell?"

"Low profile, Joseph, does it mean nothing?"

"Not to you, not usually."

"Yeah, well, now that we know someone's watching, I want to wait for them to calm down."

"Okay, granted," Joseph said, "But how else are we going to get past Tall, Dark, and Ugly back there?"

"Let you in on a secret, Joseph, he was asking for a bribe." Elliot shrugged. "We could use one of the rubies."

"No. Not yet," Skye said. "Let's see if we can get in some other way."

"Okay, but what are you suggesting? Rope?"

"Nothing so blatant," Skye said, shaking her head. "I'm taking about asking for help."

"From who?"

* * *

"I should have known," Elliot said. They were back in Nestor's shop, as he pondered the problem.

"Hm, yes, I have heard of the question..." He looked around. "And if you help me on another, I might just find the solution for you."

"Oh?" Elliot asked.

"Yes, have you heard of the Stoic Club?"

"Hm? No, can't say I have."

"Well, it is a new club in town. Getting very good business. But... No entertainers. No stage workers. Not even a band." He shrugged widely. "It is a mystery. One which many would like to solve."

Elliot nodded. "All right, but what parties are interested?"

"There is one in particular. Looking for his wife. Suspects she lives there. As to why he cannot get in, well... The Stoic Club seems very exclusive." Nestor handed over a slip of paper. "His card."

"So what does he do?"

"Oh, he's a fisherman. Not that there's been much call for that lately, but... It's better to ask him about that than me, yes?"

"How do you know you can trust us, Nestor?" Elliot asked.

"Hm? You are sophonts, you will find a way." Nestor waved away Elliot's concerns. "We always do. Meet him on the dock, you'll talk."

It was, indeed, a small fishing port, with sails reaching for the sky; the yachts of the rich interfering with the tiny rigs of the fishermen.

The odd thing was, the port was clearly full. No one had left, and it was approaching mid-day. "This must be the other troubles," Elliot noted.

Joseph supplied into the following dead silence, "Let's see if we can find this sailor."

Captain Machosiades was middle-aged, and it showed. While he still had the look of a man who could haul up a net without aid, he favored his left knee and his eyes held an inexplicable exhaustion. He sat there, on the bench, looking at Elliot's troupe. "You're the ones Nestor sent?"

"We are," Skye replied.

"Bah. Tourists," the captain said. "What do you care for our troubles?"

"Enough," Elliot said, "to help you. Now, what is it you want?"

"Better fishing, not that the kraken cares."

"Kraken?" Skye asked, skeptically. "Giant? Pulls boats beneath the waves? Whole nine yards?"

"What is the American girl talking about?"

Elliot translated for her.

"Yes!" The captain looked about. "Or, at least that's what rumors say. I'd sail myself, but my crew is off being scared of it."

"How does this relate back to the Stoic Club?"

"Ah, that. It's my wife." He shrugged. "I can't sail, so I'm running low on money. And my wife has decided to drown her troubles with expensive water and poor philosophy!"

"Poor philosophy?" Elliot said, shocked. "That is terrible! But how do you know?"

"She spends all day there! And she comes home, speaking moronic ideas that might as well be found on the back of a cereal box!" He sighed. "She used to speak her ideas so well... And made and sold the most beautiful, perfect cakes..."

"Cakes?" Joseph asked.

"Magic cakes, she called them. Made her plenty of drachmae on the side. Of course, she kept the freshest and best for me," he looked up, smiling wistfully. "Ah! I am lost on younger days. But I would be willing to exchange favors with you if you could bring her back to her senses."

Elliot nodded. "I understand."

"Okay, that much I got, you just agreed," Skye said, "Now catch me up on how we're supposed to do this."

"I'm not sure yet, calm down," Elliot said, while Joseph caught her up. "So how are we supposed to get into this club?"

"That is your problem; ask around. I've heard there are some who go there often enough."

"Any idea who?"

"Try the other captains."

"Okay, thank you." Elliot shook his head, walking at top speed away from the dock, calling everyone into a huddle. "So what now?"

"We could question random people," Skye said.

"That never works." Elliot pondered. "We could try asking around for an information broke, but I don't know the culture here."

Joseph finally spoke up. "I think I've managed to trace the number."

Skye looked at him. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Well, I only had the time a few seconds ago."

Elliot shrugged. "Okay, let's find a pay phone."

The call went out as soon as Elliot put one of the drachma coins into the slot. Someone else picked up. "Koroides residence."

"Sorry, wrong number." Elliot hung up. "Traced the number, huh?"

"Hey, I never said it was the right one. Try the phone book."

No good- the number was unlisted. "So what now?" Skye sat on the ground. "We can't just wait for someone to pass by spouting bullshit, can we?"

"Well, that's the thing, are you sitting there waiting, or just imagining you're waiting?" A passer-by noted.

Elliot seized the opportunity. "Well, if that's the case, the simplest explanation by far is to merely assume that you're not delusional. While observation is not a be-all end-all, it's hardly a totally fallible device."

"Hm... You'd do well in the Club." The man passed him a card. "That's the reservation number. Use it." He walked off.

Skye blinked at the exchange. "Can't I ever get what I want by tempting fate? Just once?"

Joseph looked at her. "What? You see the future."

"So?"

Elliot didn't catch what Skye said, already on the phone. "Yeah, I'd like to make a reservation. For as soon as possible. Tomorrow? Excellent, I'll be there. Party of three. Name's Fullerby. Time? When do you open? Okay, good." Elliot wrote down the time. "Got it all down? Oh, spelling. It's American. F-u-l-l-e-r-b-y. Thank you." He turned to them. "Now what was that all about?"

"Nothing happened." Skye shrugged. "It's pretty usual, actually."

"Then let's get ourselves somewhat armed again."

"No, we're getting you armed," Joseph said. "Skye still has her knives and I've been working the past few days."

"Then I need to get armed. Fine. Anyone coming with?"

"Do it yourself," Skye said, getting up.

"Listen, if this is about that look two days ago-"

"It's just how you are, Elliot." She started to walk off. "Tell me when we're ready to storm the Stoic Club."

Joseph rose an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Look?"

"Remember how I looked in the Mall?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"That look."

Joseph paused. "You turned that on her? What kind of idiot are you!? Apologize!"

"What did you think I was trying to do? Play tiddlywinks?"

"Actually, I thought it was just your typical low-level flirting." Joseph shrugged.

Elliot moved right past Joseph and his protests into the late afternoon air. Come to think, where had Skye got to?

* * *

Rassafrassin' jackass, she came up with the lead dammit and now all this crap follow-through that had absolutely nothing to do with the museum at all! She sat and fumed, somewhere.

Wait. Where was she anyway? After a few minutes of wandering, it had become increasingly apparent to Skye that she had gotten horribly lost.

Well, that's all right, she could just dow-

Wait. No. The bet. Shit. Why had she taken that stupid bet? It wasn't such a matter of pride as to be worth the embarrassment! And now she couldn't find her way to the hotel. If there were a payphone nearby, she could call Eagleland Express and have them direct her, but she didn't know how to contact them on this island. In fact, the only one who knew was-

Triple crap.

END CHAPTER


	30. A Little More Time

**Chapter 30: A Little More Time**

Elliot had noticed Skye hadn't returned to the hotel after a few hours, so he knocked on Joseph's door. "Hey, did Skye say where she was going?"

Joseph shrugged. "Let her vent."

"Yeah, that's all well and good, but I'm more worried about her not finding her way back than I am about her being in trouble."

"Why? She can dowse, right?"

"Uh, no. She wouldn't lose that easily." Elliot looked sheepish.

Joseph looked a little miffed. "Elliot, what the hell is going on?"

He explained that Skye and himself had a bet going, but not what the stakes were.

Joseph rubbed at his nose under his glasses. "This explains so much of our current problems."

"Yeah, it probably does."

"And all because you two let pride get in the way of getting the job done. I swear I'm surrounded by incompetents. Sometimes I wonder why I don't just destroy the entire planet and have done-"

Elliot slapped him, lightly, but enough that there would be stinging pain. "Dude. Mad science not needed right now."

"Thank you." Joseph adjusted his glasses. "Or rather, maybe it might be, because we need to track Skye."

The room phone rang. Joseph picked it up.

It was Skye. "Listen, I don't have much time. I can't read anything for crap on this island. I'm in some kind of old nightlife district. It's touristy. There's no beach in sight. I can't spot landmarks. You'll find it by the light trespass, it's really bright. Could I get a pickup?"

"Yeah, I've got the number, give me a minute to find the address. Keep talking."

"Hey, what's going on?" Elliot asked. "Is that Skye?"

Joseph raised a hand at Elliot, who shut up while Joseph brought up his HUD.

"Yeah, well, okay. Here's what I see. Lot of tourists. I'm wondering where the grifters are; there are way too many marks here to not pick this as a place to go." Skye's eyes scanned the crowd. "They're pros- it's hard to tell the staff from the customers."

"Might be a problem."

"I'll wave my hoodie when I see you guys."

Joseph smirked. "Heard him on the line?"

"I suppose. More importantly, you'd get him anyway."

"Okay, I've got the intersection. Stick around there a bit," Joseph replied.

"Will do. How long?"

"It'll take us about an hour to walk from the hotel."

"Wilco." Skye hung up.

Elliot slung his backpack, leather jacket already on over the armor.

"Are you expecting trouble?" Joseph asked.

"As close as I can figure..." Elliot held a roll of pennies in his hand for a moment, before nodding. "She's looking for the con artists."

"You could hear that?"

"Of course I could."

"Are you sure you haven't lost already?"

"Yes." He pocketed the roll, walking off. "What's the intersection?"

Joseph told him, and Elliot was already moving. Joseph followed after him, noting that this way wasn't precisely the safest.

Elliot looked around at the small signs plastered to the walls of Summers; a few moments later, this led down a darkened alley. Leaning against a wall, back to Elliot and Joseph, was Skye. Elliot nodded, walking down it with abandon, already reaching for the fist-load.

The knife came out, the man resolved himself in the darkness. No more than any other Agean man, with quite a bit to distinguish him in a crowd. But here? Here he blended in. He demanded Elliot's money.

Skye heard it, turned around, shook her head, drew a knife. "You're surrounded, idiots."

Another man came out of hiding. Elliot looked at Skye. Skye looked at Elliot.

They immediately recognized the beginnings of telepathic rapport.

The thought was sent to both of them at the same time. _You lose!_

They didn't belabor the point for the moment, getting back to the point of these poor gentlemen's knives. Elliot easily disarmed one with a throw, wrenching his arm around and removing it. He switched it to his main hand while his opponent drew another one.

"You're being too showy, Elliot," Skye sent, as she kept the other occupied simply by parrying.

"Needed a weapon."

"Drive him to me."

"Done."

"End it."

Elliot and Skye both disarmed the knives of their opponents at the same time, pummeled them, which knocked both of the would-be thieves out.

"Now, then," Elliot started. "You lose."

"I lost? You lost. You're the one who opened contact first."

"What? I did not!" Elliot pointed at her. "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't gotten yourself lost!"

"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly the brightest thing to go through an unlit alley!"

"You tell me that next time you get utterly lost."

Joseph cleared his throat. "Guys! While I'm sure this discussion is very interesting, would you mind letting me in on it?"

Elliot blinked. "Huh?" He blinked again, and started speaking. "Oh, shit!"

"This doesn't change that fact that you're the one who went to the well first!"

"Yeah, well, it doesn't mean you're off scot free! We contacted at the same time!"

Joseph paused. "If I might suggest a third option? You both lose."

They looked at each other. Nodded. "I'll take that," they both said at once.

Joseph nodded. "Now, what is it about this bet that you're both so eager for the other to lose it?"

Both faces turned red. Elliot spoke first. "well, um... Er..." He tried to stammer it out.

Joseph smiled. "I'll go get the camera."

Skye paused. "Hey, wait, why would you need a camera?"

"Because whatever it is, I want to remember it." Joseph ran off to the hotel.

Elliot looked at Skye. Skye looked at Elliot. "HOLD IT!" They ran after him.

Joseph had already locked his doors by the time Elliot and Skye caught up to him, and the only thing they could hear from his room were slightly deranged giggles and various pieces of equipment and clothing hitting the floor.

"So what now?" Elliot said.

"Now, I suppose, we man up and do what we said we'd do." She leaned against the wall.

Elliot leaned next to her. "Me and my big mouth."

"You and your big mouth?" Skye looked at him skeptically, but with a smirk. "Who started this bet?"

"Who made it worse?"

"Who's the bigger fool?"

"Does it matter?" Elliot's hand squeezed hers for a moment, and she went from content to absolutely stunned in record time.

"Uh, no." But the look of- was it fear?- in her eyes said something else.

Elliot let go, confused, before it clicked. "Look, I'm not about to haul off and hit you, okay?"

Skye blinked. "What?"

"You know how Marilyn Monroe could turn the star power on and off?"

"Not really..."

"Damn it, I needed a good analogy."

"I get your point, keep going."

"That was kind of my point." Elliot looked around, sheepishly. "Maybe it actually is PSI."

"I can't say I've ever heard of it being able to do that." She paused. "Of course, I'm hardly a library."

"I'm still trying to pin it down to explain!" Elliot nearly shouted. "Shut up for a second!"

"Well can you do anything else with it?"

"I don't know!"

"Try."

Elliot shot her a dirty look. "Give me something better to work with than 'try'."

"How about..." Skye pondered. "Depression?"

Elliot blinked, a little disgusted. "After what Killing Urge did? Do you really want that?"

"I don't know, something safe!"

"How the hell am I supposed to know what's safe?"

"I don't know, love? I guess that's safe," Skye shrugged.

Elliot shook his head. "In a word, no. In two words, hell no. I'm not pulling some Jane Fonda Barbarella shit."

"I don't know, one of the other Deadly Sins? Pride should be all right. Lust, perhaps?"

"Lust? In public?" Elliot looked positively shocked to hear such a thing from Skye.

"Twit." Skye smirked. "Fine then, humor."

"I suppose I could give it a try." Elliot took off his sunglasses, closed his eyes. He looked for the central core of what made him laugh, like he dipped into his killing urge before. This was harder to find, so much so that Skye tapped a foot impatiently.

Surprisingly, that made it easier to find, and he opened his eyes, looking right into hers.

The smile, the face was lost in the face of an overwhelming feeling that this entire thing was silly. Skye thumbed her nose at Elliot, and both broke out laughing.

"Neener," Elliot intoned, somehow deadpan, which caused both of them to break out laughing again.

"Well, this seems to have been a rousing success." Skye paused. "Though we probably should get some rest."

"Rest, eh?" The goofy grin on his face, combined with the obviously fake sleazy reaction, set them both to laughing again.

"Yeah, you know, sleep? That thing we need to have to live and be somewhat sane?"

"Oh. Yeah, that. Haven't had that for a while, huh?"

"Could you turn off the goof for five seconds?" Skye smirked.

"Okay, okay, I'm serious now. Really." Elliot held up a hand.

"Good, let's get some sleep."

"Yeah. Sleep."

Neither one was making a move to go to their rooms.

"Is there... Something else?" Skye asked.

"Well, there are questions I have about this whole telepathic connection-"

"I don't know the answer either." Elliot had Skye dead to rights on this one, and she considered the problem a little further before adding, "All I'd be concerned about is us getting more like each other."

"Yeah, that speaking together thing gets kinda creepy, even for us," Elliot pointed out.

"What's this 'we' business?" Skye put a hand on her hip.

"Well, the telepathy alone seems to get Joseph annoyed."

"That's just common courtesy?" Skye shrugged.

"I guess," Elliot said. "I just wonder if we can't bring him into the loop somehow."

Skye shook her head. "I don't think he's psychic."

"I'm starting to wonder..." Elliot blinked heavily. "How long have we been talking?"

"Does it matter?" Skye said, smiling.

"Not really." Elliot smiled back.

"You know?" Skye asked. "I think this is the longest you've ever spent without your sunglasses on since you got them."

"My eyes are sensitive."

"I just think you think you look cool in them." Skye snatched them from his pocket with telekinesis, putting them on herself. "So, how do I look?"

"With the beret, too?" Elliot smirked. "Like a pretentious beatnik with a penchant for red."

Skye laughed. "This coming from the guy who thinks James Dean is still in fashion."

"Heh. Actually, no, Bruce Springsteen. All I need now is the rhinestone studs, spelling out 'LOOK AT MY BUTT'." Elliot spread out his hands as if for a marquee.

The image alone made Skye lean against the wall with laughter. "Won't need the rhinestones tomorrow."

"No fooling." Elliot smirked.

"We should get to bed."

"Yeah. I don't want to."

"Neither do I." Skye removed Elliot's sunglasses, put them on his face with her hands and rested her arms on his shoulders, smiling, even as she was yelling at herself that it was just an excuse to put her arms around him.The mantra repeated itself in her head, and despite her temptation, she finally got the nerve to say, "But, you know, we've actually got someplace to be tomorrow, remember?"

"Screw it."

"No."

"But..."

"Go to bed, Elliot."

"You first."

"No, you go first!" Skye pointed at him.

"I DON'T CARE WHOSE BED YOU TWO SLEEP IN," Joseph shouted through his door, "BUT YOU'D BETTER MAKE UP YOUR MINDS QUICK OR I'M GOING TO BLOW YOU BOTH AWAY THROUGH THIS DOOR! WHY CAN I NEVER HAVE PEACE AND QUIET WHILE I'M TRYING TO WORK!"

"Uh, right. Time to go then," Elliot said, backing away towards his room.

"Yeah, pretty much," Skye replied stepping towards her own door.

In one way, it was comforting to know that the killer's aura wasn't the only one he could present; in another it was much more disturbing. If the killer wasn't the real Elliot, what was?

In the small hours of the morning, Skye tried in vain to figure it out, and dreamt of the future that refused to change.

_--_

In the brief hours they had before the Stoic Club opened the next day, Elliot and Skye had both managed to procure their forfeits and gone to the beach to put them on.

Joseph grinned as Elliot walked out. "Nice." The picture was snapped. "That from granite?"

"Huh?"

"You had to chisel it from something." He chuckled behind his hands at Elliot's reaction. "Oh, don't be so confrontational. Unless you're considering her competition in the looks department." He put a hand on a hip, waiting for Skye. "Speaking of..."

She walked out, a little self-conscious. "No one's going to look at you twice, Skye." Joseph paused to consider his statement. "Well, no more than usual."

"What do you mean by that?" Skye said, color running to her cheeks.

"You're already fine additions to the scenery. Now you blend in. Which is what we were looking for in the first place." Joseph snapped the picture before Skye could react. "There, a nice natural pose for Skye. Could I convince either of you to stick around for a few more shots?"

Elliot blinked at him, looked over at Skye. She was very nice scenery but... "Eeeeeh, no."

"There's still one thing that bothers me," Skye said, before looking longingly at the waves. "If both of us lost, who won?"

Joseph schooled his face into a cheesy smile, accompanying it with matching thumbs up. "The fans."

Both slapped him upside the head at the same time. "Ow!" Joseph said. "Did you both have to do it at once?"

"Yes," both replied.

Skye paused. "You know what? Life's too damn short." She waved goodbye. "I'll see you in an hour."

Elliot watched her go. "I don't get her."

"You will," Joseph said, smiling. "I should go put on trunks myself, I haven't had any time out here."

"Yeah, what have you been up to, anyway?"

"Oh, just looking around. Playing with tools. That kind of thing." Joseph grinned.

"How have you been getting to Skye?" Elliot asked.

"Whatever could you mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean, you sorry sack." But Elliot grinned while he said it. "Now how did you get to Skye?"

"I did nothing, man, this was all you." With that, Joseph waved to Elliot. "I'm off to enjoy the scenery."

Elliot had a feeling there was something wrong with this picture somehow, but as he went through his routine, he couldn't figure out what it was.

Early afternoon shed its harsh noonlight over the sands of Crete, roasting sand and sunbathers alike. Elliot arrived at the changing rooms first, with everyone's street clothing in tow.

Joseph waved goodbye to a couple of women, nearly backing into Elliot. One in particular winked at him, and he winked back, pocketing a small slip of paper in an undefined place. He turned to Elliot, grinning. "I can't say as the service on the beach is great, but the scenery is lovely, don't you think?"

Elliot couldn't help but nod. "Yeah, I hear you. We've got to come here more often."

"And what exactly are you two talking about?"

"The view," they both said at once.

"Really?" Skye smirked. "That's an interesting way to talk after flirting with all those poor girls, Joseph."

"It's not like I won't have time to talk to women later," Joseph noted. "Women come and go, but this view is forever."

Skye rolled her eyes. "Oh, gag me."

"If we're done speculating about what we were talking about?" Elliot said.

Skye looked at him. "Well, fine. Be that way. We still have to change and get to the Stoic Club."

"A fair point!" Elliot clapped his hands together. "I'll lead the way, shall I?"

"Oh, indubitably."

"After you, Joseph."

"Oh, no, after you."

"If you two are going to play gophers all day..." Skye warned, rolling up an imaginary sleeve.

"Oh, fine, but I don't see you changing." Elliot walked off to someplace convenient, as did everyone else in turns.

The Stoic Club, of course, turned out to be the unmarked, off-white building along the beachfront. The same bouncer from the day before was there, looking at his clipboard.

"Fullerby, party of three," Elliot said.

"You're here a little early."

"Better early than late."

"Precision should be the watchword. You're lucky, the debate is going on full force."

"Between?" Elliot asked.

"Oh, some nihilists and a whole spade of idealists, trying to reconcile the essential inconsistencies in each philosophy."

"Well, that's just lovely. At least it's not the solipsists and the pragmatists going at it."

"Oh, no, that was yesterday. So, which side would you be on?"

Elliot considered. "Well, Skye is a fatalist, so I suppose she would have the most in common with the nihilists; I'm much more of an idealist and understand the positions well. Of course, I realize many of the problems with the idealist camp of thinking, which is why I'm primarily an anti-determinist."

Joseph blinked. "Just how long have you studied philosophy?"

"Oh, a few years. It was good clean fun." Elliot smiled. "But solipsism still makes my head hurt, what with its proponents not having the complete idea of a philosophy, just the bare shreds of one with an idealistic slant."

Skye was just staring at him. "Of course, the problem with me being a nihilist is that I find nihilism to be impossible to reconcile with not necessarily overall experience, but with my own brand of fatalism; I don't think that all life is heading directly to the Void."

The bouncer raised an eyebrow. "All right, you both pass. And you, sir?"

Joseph looked up from some sort of object he was playing with. "Oh, I'm a transhumanist with designs on platonic ideals and a genuinely pessimistic reaction to most of humanity."

"Okay, okay, save it for the inside, guys, you're confusing me already!" A low-grade murmur suffused the outside as the guard opened the door. "Enter, lovers of thinking."

The inside had similar spartan appointments to the outside. Very few lights set a dim scene, letting their bare bulbs shed harsh light on unblinking truth. Tables all about sat two people or more, all talking to one another politely, clutching small plastic bottles full of water so that they could keep speaking. Occasionally, one would take a swig while another was talking, and even more rarely, one would ask one of the tastefully-dressed waitresses for another bottle.

There was, in fact, a stage in the Stoic Club. But o it, instead of a band, or even an entertainer, or perhaps even a bartender, there was... A rock. It was a really big rock! But it was still a rock, and Elliot looked it over.

Granite it was, with red sandstone pressed deep into it, polished to a deep shine.

Elliot contemplated it. "Yeah, but what does it mean?"

"I imagine that's the whole point," Joseph replied.

"Well, it's an obvious metaphor for the meaninglessness of existence," a woman said, behind them. "The rock here existed for millions of years before us; it will exist millions of years after."

Elliot shook his head. "You miss the point. Humans carried this rock from wherever it was found to this stage. We can do more than merely wait to die."

The woman was positively stunning, and her ring proclaimed her as taken. In the harsh light, it was clear she was into her mid-30s, but her age showed very well, seeming only to add to her charm. "But you don't argue the fact that all of humanity is in a march to the grave?"

"That's medical science, you can't argue that," Elliot said. "But to say that's the ultimate end of humanity is to lose sight of the present and past. Sure, I'm going to die. Soon, probably." He shrugged. "However... If I achieve what I desire, I'd find that enough for me. It's the difference between ambition and blind desire."

Skye tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse us for a moment."

"Of course."

She hauled the others to a corner. "Okay. Guys."

"What's up?" Elliot asked.

"That woman has what we in the psychic business call, as a technical term, 'major bad mojo'."

"Seriously?" Elliot looked skeptical.

"Yeah. Should we check it out?"

Elliot nodded. "Let's see if we can't look deeper into this. Will we need to rapport?"

"No, I'll take a look on my own. It's probably just pent-up psychic force, nothing to worry about." Skye shook her head. "I shouldn't have said that."

She closed her eyes, looked puzzled, opened her eyes again, and then closed them. "Dammit, I knew I shouldn't have said that."

Joseph shook his head. "You know the future; why do you keep tempting fate?"

Skye shrugged. "Old habit. But it's not important right now. What is important is unbinding her mind."

"Can you do it?" Elliot asked.

"Yes, no problem. It'll take a while though."

"So the question becomes: how do we do it without being noticed?" Joseph asked.

"Skye." Elliot nodded. "Will you need eye contact?"

"No, I could sense that piece of work from out to sea."

"Okay, I've got it." Elliot started to walk off.

"Where are you going?" Skye asked.

"To keep her distracted. Get to work."

"But what about-" Skye sighed. "And he's already gone. Get me someplace to sit, Joseph."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to be useless while I'm doing this and don't want to have to do this from an observation room."

Elliot walked back to the woman. "Sorry about that, we're tourists. They distrusted you." He shrugged.

"It's understandable, with all that is going on recently." She walked back to her table, and Elliot followed her.

"So where were we?" he asked, as he collected a bottle of water from the server. He saw Skye and Joseph sit at an empty table behind the woman. "And what is your name?"

"I'm Kyria. Kyria Machoiades." Kyria nodded. "And yours?"

"Elliot Fullerby." He paused. "Machoiades? I believe I've heard that name before."

"Probably from my unenlightened husband." She scoffed. "He is a fool, but maybe not more than the rest of humanity..."

Skye leaned on a hand, her eyes closed, and then- discontinuity-

It was like seeing fog under glass, but the glass was made of yarn.

And every single strand was a bright blue. Skye looked it over, went a little deeper... The strands were like a wall.

And then she heard- _A snap of the fingers, and then a voice she had come to recognize and hate. "Follow me," it whispered, and Kyria did so, blindly, unthinkingly. Skye could see Pokey grin, touch her cheek._

_Later. A bed. Pokey was still smiling. "When you awaken, you will remember nothing of this night. You will repeat the events of today. And if someone tries to invade your mind, show them this. And let them know that I am coming for everyone."_

Skye found herself unceremoniously kicked out of Kyria's head as she snapped awake. Elliot and Joseph were looking around, bewildered.

She blinked. People had started to quiet down.

All at once, every single one of them turned to the rock. They stared at it, blankly.

Elliot and Skye nodded at each other. Stood up, took a look around. Waved hands in front of faces.

Skye poked into each mind, lightly, in turn. "There's... Nothing."

"What?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing. It's like they're brain-dead. There's no mind there."

As if this were a trigger, every single person raised their left hands.

After exactly twenty seconds, everyone dropped them at the same time, and every single one seemed to be blinking, as if waking from a long sleep. A note of concern filled the room.

Elliot walked back to Kyria.

She looked about, confused. "What, might you say, is that rock for?"

"Discussion," Elliot replied. "It is here so the owners of the Stoic Club do not need to hire entertainers, at least, so long as there are people willing to talk about it."

"How simple."

"Simple does not necessarily mean wrong."

"So who are you, anyway?" She looked at him.

"Elliot Fullerby." It was like she'd woken up in this unfamiliar place.

"My name is Kyria Machoiades."

"Machoiades?" Elliot said, taking advantage of the situation. "Hm... Perhaps something of fate does exist."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean that your husband is worried for you." Elliot explained some of the events of the past day.

"Hm... Magic Cake?" Kyria paused, a little shocked. "I have much to think about. Please excuse me." With that thoughtful expression, she walked out of the Stoic Club.

Elliot walked over to Skye. "So will she be all right?"

"... I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"You have no idea what I just saw in there, do you?" Skye looked at him.

Elliot paused. "You're right, I don't, because you haven't told me!"

"We're in public, you idiots!" Joseph growled out.

"Joseph's room?" Skye asked.

"Joseph's room," Elliot nodded.

It was moments later they arrived there; Skye had taken it at a dead run, with Elliot and Joseph barely keeping up with her. "Okay, now what is this about, Skye?" Elliot blurted out as he slammed the door.

"Pokey was controlling all of them."

Dead silence.

Elliot broke it first. "... Pokey? Are we talking about the same lazy sack of crap here? Pokey did this?"

"Yes!"

Elliot paused. "That's it. He's dead."

"What?"

"We see him, shoot to kill. On sight." Elliot was holding back something. "If he's alive, and he's still screwing around with other people's minds... I won't let it happen."

Joseph looked at him in shock. "Elliot, I think you're taking this a little too hard-"

"Too hard?" Elliot was toneless. "Too hard? If he's done what I think he's done-"

Skye nodded, weakly.

"No..." Elliot paused. "No, death's too good."

"Then why shoot to kill?" Joseph said.

"We'll only get one chance to stop him," Elliot said. "Shoot to kill."

Late the next morning, everyone arrived at Nestor's place, where, of all people, they found Kyria.

She smiled as she spotted Elliot and the crew. "I figured I had you to thank for that."

Elliot looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "Uh, no, not at all-"

"Don't bother," Nestor said, behind the counter. "You broke the hypnosis placed on her. I'm impressed, not many people can do that just by talking."

"Replaying the same day, over and over, for that sick bastard's amusement..." Kyria spat. "Of course I knew. I'm more intelligent than even my husband gives me credit for. If you are hunting that Paul fellow, give him extra from me."

"And your husband?" Elliot asked.

"Has realized I'm back to normal," Kyria replied. "As will my customers, shortly. As thanks, come down to the beach later this afternoon; I'll give you all the first batch."

"First batch?"

"Of the Magic Cake, of course!"

"It's not really magic," Nestor winked, conspiratorially. "It's simply remarkably good!"

Everyone joined in the little joke, until Skye finally said, "There might be some... Repressed memories-"

"I don't want to know what that bastard did to me. As far as I'm concerned, those memories can stay repressed." Kyria's vehemence was clear.

"Uh, all right then, that's cleared up nicely," Elliot replied. "If you ever need our help, don't hesitate to ask."

"Of course. You are sophonts." With that, she politely took her leave.

"Now, what are we going to do until this afternoon?" Elliot asked.

Nestor smirked. "At loose ends?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Joseph said.

"Work for me for a while. I'm certain I could find uses for people of your fine talents." He spread his arms. "After all, we are all sophonts, yes?"

"If we did not have need to travel at a moment's notice, we would take you up on the offer, Nestor," Elliot said, kindly. Joseph and Skye both didn't have to look at him to see the wheels turning in his mind.

"A pity, you would be a welcome addition to my business," he said, shaking his head.

"Which one?" Elliot asked.

"All of them, of course!"

"As may be, but I'd have to talk it over with everyone." Elliot shrugged.

"Hey guys, can we get lunch or something?" Skye finally cut in.

"Eh, sure, why not?" Joseph said. "We'll be sure to ask you if we need any more help, Nestor."

"But of course!" He smiled again. "And I'll see what can be done about that exhibit."

They all looked at each other. "The Exhibit!"

Elliot sighed. "I can't believe I forgot about that..."

"Not like there was much we could do," Joseph said.

"Granted..."

Later that afternoon, they casually strolled down to the beach, the same routine they'd established the past few days.

At the sands, there was a small cart, Kyria already there. "You're just in time, they're just about done."

She passed each of them a small, round cake, about the size of the palm of your hand. They were still warm, slightly steaming.

Elliot looked at it, smiling as the faint scent of anise, cinnamon, and perhaps the barest hint of cocoa hit his nose.

Every bite was ever-so-slightly different, but every flavor was delightful; Elliot savored them each in turn...

And then, everything started to fade to black.

The last words he heard before nothingness overtook him were Kyria asking, "Wait, what day is today?"

END CHAPTER 30


	31. Nirvana

**Chapter 31: Nirvana**

Blackness. Oblivion. As much as Elliot wished this wasn't familiar, it was, horribly so; right down to the silent drips, as if he were in some great cave.

There was an explosion of color, and _Elliot saw_-

_It was a land of mountains. In fact, the very capital was a place in the clouds, great and bright that seemed to capture the sun. Here, buildings, short and peaked like the mountains around them, huddled against the great spires like chicks in a nest._

_Even the biggest building- a palace, no doubt, was nothing compared to the mountain it sat on. The sky seemed to stretch away from it like the world ended here, and as far as the people seemed concerned, it was. And the sky... The sky started to burn. _

_It burned, with bright points of light- stars, such stars!- hovering over the great palace, spinning into infinity and then utterly, horribly, descending, exploding, utterly annihilating the palace. _

_On a nearby peak, there was one who stood and watched, his aura and eyes a horrific, unnatural blue. He broke into a smile, then a slow, cackling laugh-_

Elliot found himself waking... Somewhere else. His hands, his feet, they were not his own, but he found that he could not panic; his body sat itself up without his will or consent.

He shook his head, stood up. "I seem to have more troubling dreams lately," he muttered. Wait, no, that wasn't him. It wasn't him at all.

The voice was too deep, the muttering in a language he didn't recognize, and most importantly, he had not said it or thought it.

So where was he? Elliot tried to take stock of himself and found that he couldn't.

The room was very well-appointed, especially for someone used to sleeping in two-bit hotels and his own small room. Reds and golds and whites festooned the room.

His body yawned, walked to the mirror.

For that matter, this _definitely _wasn't his body. It was too young, for a start, with black hair shaved bald but allowed itself to be tied back into a straight ponytail. The face was vaguely Thai in construction, the eyes a deep black. Long, hard work created the iron of the rest of the body. Slowly, it pulled on a set of brand-new sweats and slowly wrapped its feet and forearms in bandages.

He walked out of the room, to find someone else similarly dressed, similarly appointed, so similar in fact that Elliot was tempted to ask if this was his father.

"Student Kato."

"Master. I have had a troubling dream."

The Master suddenly took interest, and instantly Elliot's estimation of their relationship solidified. Not Kato's father, but he might as well be. "And what was in this dream?"

"The palace- destroyed by some ancient technique. And a man of blue, laughing over its destruction."

"I see..." He paused. "You know this does not excuse you from our training for today?"

"Of course not," he found himself replying. "I merely thought it important."

"Then let us run through the first exercises."

The first exercises were a set of physical conditioning that made Elliot realize just why Kato was as solid as he was. Pushups, situps, squats, pullups, the whole nine yards, followed up by a half-hour's run and a large breakfast.

Then came the sparring against the master himself.

The style was aggressive- immensely so. The young student and the master rained blows on each other, so quickly Elliot could barely follow it. While he could vaguely recognize the original style as Muay Thai- elbows, knees, feet, infamous- there was something different in the way the blows were landing, turned aside somehow by some force Elliot could not identify.

Kato attacked, identifying an opening that Elliot could not and capitalizing on it immediately. The resulting flurry of blows set Master tumbling to the ground, rolling to his feet and wincing a little. "Well done. Your Mu training is almost complete."

"Master?" Confusion filtered into Elliot's mind through Kato's- the first time all morning he had felt any emotion at all.

"It is the truth. Your style is impeccable, your jit-daan nearly flawless. All that remains is the heart of Mu itself."

"Yes, Master." Elliot couldn't hear Kato think, but he could feel the slight amount of doubt.

"Clear your mind!" Master shouted. "I have told you many times! If you do not clear your mind, you will never complete your training!"

"Yes, Master."

"Now. Go to a peak. Meditate there. Do not leave. Not for any reason, until you feel your training is complete."

"But... Master, how will I know?"

"You will know." He paused. "Now go."

Kato bowed politely to the Master, and walked into a grand courtyard and out a large archway.

It was just as Elliot had seen it, in the dream- a tall land, of mountains and clouds, at least from here.

Kato walked down the road, the old familiar places, the village stretching out before him along a giant natural switchback. The winds were peaceful today.

Those of the capital turned to watch him go. Did they know of him already? Nervousness. A few whispers among the commoners. The further he walked, the more people gathered about to see him. He was uncomfortable with the attention. He was still in-waiting.

And then there were those he knew vaguely from the village. They were coming up to him freely.

At least, the women were. Some were his age; he knew of them vaguely. Oh, they were all some minor noble or other; he mostly knew about them through reputation and an unfortunate penchant to try and talk with him while he was training.

He ignored them as they tried to make conversation about many things that did not interest him. Including the idea of a marriage-of-state. Foolishness, of course; none of them had foreign ties, and anyway, he had very little power to decide that. As did they all, he supposed.

So he kept walking, until he came to the base of the Lower Peak of Dalaam. There was a rope already set up. Kato ignored it, using his own strength and his jit-daan to find a way up the thin, precarious peak.

He knew, as he climbed, that he was entering sacred ground. This was deliberate, to prevent people from following him uselessly. The rock which should have cut his hand left no pain- the jit-daan at work, blocking all outside influence.

The mountain which took many hours was scaled in minutes thanks to his previous training. Kato looked at the small flat place that was the very peak of this place. He sat down, and began to meditate, eyes closed, a silent mantra running through both his and Elliot's mind. _There is a nature to nothingness_.

Elliot heard- though he suspected that Kato did not- the woman shouting for him to come back, that his master had relented. Kato either did not hear or did not listen, or else did not believe the woman. In any case, he did exactly what he had been told from the master- that he was not to move.

In time, the world faded from even Elliot's sight- to reveal-

_It was a spirit, ancient, old, a collection, Elliot realized, even as he could not place them. "We are your ancestors, Kato. We were Dalaam, as you are, now._

_"To you, Silent Rider, we bid you watch." _

Kato did not move when the vision made itself apparent.

_The spirits were all around them now. Elliot did not even feel his usual fear of the dead. There was... Nothing. No feeling. _

_"Dalaam. For you to complete your training, we must take your arms. Will you agree to this?" _

Kato nodded.

_Pain- pain of the most terrible sort- and a sense of loss, as if something should be there that wasn't anymore. _

Kato did not move. Did not blink. His breathing became pained, but that was the only outward signal of his trouble.

_The spirits seemed pleased by this turn of events. "Well done. Now. For you to complete your training, we must take your legs. Will you agree to this?" _

Again, Kato nodded. _Again, the unrelenting pain, redoubled; Elliot could not keep up. _

_They collected the arms, the legs, sat them up beside Kato. "Dalaam, we must now seek your heart, your eyes, your ears. Will you obey?" _

And Kato agreed, even through the pain. _The pain suddenly disappeared. There was nothing, as his senses suddenly cut out. There wasn't even a sensation of floating, there was merely... Nothingness. _

_"Nothingness. It is the heart of Mu. And its danger. For this very abyss you draw power from... It may take your mind." _

This finally gave Kato pause. _"Your very mind. Is it ours? Does it belong to the world of your ancestors? Or do you seek the abyss?" _

A telepathic answer, a brief oath of loyalty. _Then the spirits swirled around him. "The world can be reflected from nothingness. Our hearts, our minds, are your anchor against it. Nothingness is the heart of Mu- the answer to the meaningless question. But in all things, there is balance. Silent Rider, the One of Everything... You must be that balance until he finds it. Do you understand?" _

Elliot did, but couldn't figure out how to say it. _"We know. Dalaam, seek out the Silent Rider. He is the next step in your training. Others, too, we sense you will meet. But that is for another time. We give you back all you have lost to nothingness. Now go!" _

Kato snapped awake, and began to descend the mountain. His training of Mu, at least, was complete.

He slowly started the walk back, weakened by his meditations, but feeling an odd strength he did not know he had. Because there was really nothing there- the weakness was just an illusion, and he disregarded it. The palace was a shorter walk than he remembered. And no sound came from the world.

Master looked at him as he entered. Paused. Closed his eyes, nodded. "Your training is complete, Kato. But now you must go to your next step in training. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Master." He bowed to the Master, who bowed in return. "I know where to go now."

"Then go."

Kato paused, went to the courtyard, and with a burst of speed, was gone.

Elliot slowly awakened back in Summers. "Man, what did you put in that cake? LSD?"

Everyone looked down at him, concerned, Kyria especially so. She spoke first. "Expired ingredients, actually. I am dreadfully sorry, I'd lost track of the days-"

Elliot waved it off as he began to stand up. "I'm okay, I'm okay..." He stumbled a little as he said it.

Joseph and Skye grabbed hold of him at the same time. "All right, we're getting you to the hotel-"

A triple sonic boom heralded the arrival of... Someone else, the sand obscuring him as he skidded to a halt.

"Dammit, Kato!" Elliot shouted, through his coughing fit. "We're supposed to be keeping a low profile."

"Apologies, my liege," said a calm, toneless voice, in the Received Pronunciation. "I was told to find you."

The dust cleared, and Kato was just like Elliot had seen him to be- made of iron, in grey sweats, wearing bandage wraps around his arms and legs.

Elliot tapped his foot impatiently. "I am not 'your liege'."

"Master, then?"

"No."

Joseph was looking between them. "Now hold on, who is this guy again?"

"Oh, right, you guys didn't have the crazy vision." Elliot showed a hand to Kato. "Everyone, this is Kato Dalaam, prince?"

Kato nodded. "This is my duty, to finish my training."

"Well. Kato, I'm Elliot. You know me as the Silent Rider. Which, quite frankly, I think is the most pompous name your ancestors could have come up with. I mean it. If you must call me anything special, I am not 'Master', I am not 'my liege', and I am most certainly not 'Silent Rider'. I'm Elliot. Maybe 'sir' or 'boss'."

"How about Fearless Leader?" Joseph said.

"Cut that out and introduce yourselves. Your schtick, too, if you'd like."

"Andonuts. Joseph Andonuts. I work with machines, mostly."

"Skye Polestar. I'm the Seer. I also do the... Rougher business we might need to contact."

"I see." Kato's expression did not change. "As... Fearless Leader suggested-"

"Hey!"

"- I am Kato Dalaam. I am not certain quite yet what use I will be to this troupe, but I will do my best, Fearless Leader."

"Well, that seems to have worked out nicely. I guess we'll need a new room." Elliot shrugged. "Welcome to the team, I guess. Also, my name is not Fearless Leader!"

"As you wish, sir."

Skye kept the other two back. "So if he's from Dalaam, why is he speaking with a British accent?"

Joseph blinked. "Because English isn't his first language."

"Oh."

"Seriously, Skye, keep up," Elliot said. "Come on, let's check our messages in the hotel."

It turned up something from Nestor; he mentioned the Museum 'did not pay the guard enough'.

Elliot smirked. "Okay, I get it. Man, we should have done this first thing." He shook his head.

Kato looked at the note. "I do not understand, Fearless Leader."

"You'll get it in the morning," Elliot said.

"I thought you didn't like that name?" Joseph smirked.

"Eh, I'm warming to it, Boris," Elliot shrugged.

"Boris? I thought his name was Joseph."

Elliot paused, waved a hand. "Never mind, it's an Eaglelander thing."

"So Kato," Skye asked, "What have you been up to before deciding to help us?"

"Mostly training under Master. Why?"

"Master, eh?" Skye smiled as an image came to mind.

Joseph shook his head. "Not that Master..."

"Huh?" Kato was now utterly confused.

"Okay, yeah, guys, I don't get that one either." Elliot raised a hand. "'Splain."

"It'd take a GameStation we don't have."

"This is another gamer geek thing, huh?"

Skye nodded.

"Can we knock off the pop culture for a while?" Elliot asked. "It's going to be hard enough for Kato to understand us without all the references."

"You realize that's half my repertoire?" Skye replied.

"Not the point. I doubt he'd get even Abbot and Costello, never mind Ultimate Geek Reference 312."

"Well, I would not be so certain, Fearless Leader," Kato noted. "Though I never did understand the point of that one skit about the cricket pitch..."

"No, you see, the whole point is that Who's on first-" Elliot started.

"Who?" Kato supplied.

"Yes."

"So yes is on first base?"

"No, I'm telling you, that's the whole point, Who is on-" Elliot blinked, looking at Kato. "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"Of course not," Kato deadpanned. "I never joke."

With that, arrangements were made for Kato to stay at the hotel, and they rested for the night.

Elliot woke everyone up near the crack of dawn. For Kato it was especially galling; he had not adjusted to the time zones yet. Breakfast was obtained from the remains of last night's supper. Kato picked at his; Elliot realized the problem immediately. "Couldn't bring anything from home?"

"No, Fearless Leader."

"I'll see what I can do for you."

"We could always teleport home, of course."

"Yeah, no, we've wasted enough time in Summers without wasting a day or two teleporting to Dalaam and back," Skye replied.

"We're on a time limit?" This came from everyone else.

Skye waffled. "Well, at least until the exhibit leaves, we are, and who knows when the monster will leave?"

"Right. Then let's at least get that out of the way," Elliot said, leaning back in his chair and then standing up. "We have work to do."

"Of course, Fearless Leader."

The museum was the same as always, and not actually closed today, which was a blessing.

The door, as usual was blocked. Kato looked at the guard, looked to the group, waved them aside. "What do you have in terms of monetary value?"

"Well, the armory..."

"Not good enough, I'm afraid, Fearless Leader."

Skye paused. "Do we still have that nice big bag of garnet and ruby the Montague boys gave us?"

Elliot paused, searched his backpack for a moment. "Wait a second... Here we... Are..." He suddenly felt rather silly, as he realized just how useful this would have been several days ago. "Why didn't we remember this before now?"

"Elliot, are you actually aware how much assorted shit we have?" Joseph asked. "Just in Fourside alone, we picked up body armor, a chain with a lock, a machine for making random yogurt, samples from a genuine unidentified flying object, my new guns, all sorts of nifty broken items that I can make more useful later, the aforementioned rubies, Skye herself- again-"

"Hey!"

"-a costume, several new sets of clothing which thankfully haven't been ruined yet, my new guns, Skye's new knives, a mind control chip, several trail rations, rope, pitons, emergency shelter, and did I mention my new guns?"

"Yes."

"But you see my point, we got a lot of incidentals over a not-long course of time."

"In any case, Fearless Leader," Kato put in," Perhaps I should handle this?"

"Oh. Yeah. By all means, go ahead."

Kato nodded, then walked over to the guard. Some quiet discussion went on, and the velvet rope was pulled open. Kato lingered as they passed and pressed something into the guard's palm.

"Three raw garnets," he told the others, who nodded.

Elliot nodded, and took a look at all the exhibits.

It was all encased behind glass, kept carefully regulated for dryness. Visions of gold and sandstone and marble looked back at Elliot, and he shuddered. "Damn Scaraba and its obsession with death..."

"Sorry, Scoob, you gotta do this," Skye replied with a smirk.

"Stow it, Shaggy."

But the real shocker was the tablet in the center- a new find, written in language that, according to the inscription, baffled even the British Museum.

Kato took a look at it. "Joseph, could you take a picture?"

"Sure."

Skye blinked. "What is it with you and being afraid of death, anyway? You're pretty indestructible, dude."

"Look, I don't ask why you're afraid of snakes. Don't ask why I'm afraid of the dead."

"Snakes? What about snakes?"

Kato politely cleared his throat. "Fearless Leader, if you and your lover would carry on this conversation a little later? I believe I can translate the tablet."

"You can what?" Skye asked.

"My what?" Elliot added.

Skye caught on. "I'm his _what_?"

Joseph shook his head. Oh, man, this landmine.

Kato blinked. "Well surely you've known each other for about half a year now, I'd guess-"

Joseph clapped a hand on Kato's shoulder, motioning him to follow outside.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Dude, not cool."

"But surely-"

"Oh, I know it. And you know it. But those two twits are so deep in denial they're alligator food. Quite frankly as they only met two weeks ago, near the start of this mission, I think that's for the best."

Kato paused. "So they-"

"Yeah."

"Oh, dear. And we can't do anything because they would object. And clearly they're both afraid of jeopardizing the mission."

"Uh, sure. Whatever. I just think they're twits who can't see what's in front of them." Joseph shook his head.

"G-guys! Little help!" The shout was Elliot's.

They looked at each other, rushed back into the exhibit.

The mummies were rising out of their sarcophagi...

End Chapter 31


	32. Dark Moon, High Tide

**Chapter 32: Dark Moon, High Tide**

Slowly, they rose the stone lids, like an inexorable march of sand.

And then they ran into the glass. A few testing bumps on the glass, and then they shattered it from within, standing.

"Joseph, do you think you can pick them off?" Elliot said.

"On it." Joesph's backpack seemed to extrude a certain weapon from the top of the pack. Joseph grabbed it. It looked vaguely like a large-bore shotgun, combined now with wires and solder. Kato watched Joseph set up the shot even as he faded into Jit-daan.

The mummy's head burst open like a dried melon. Of course, this wasn't enough to actually stop it. "Bad news!"

Kato immediately grasped the problem as they started to walk towards the group. Elliot was actually... Backing away? "We've got what we came for."

"What about the civilians?" Skye asked pointedly.

Elliot seemed to recover. "Shit... This is why I hate undead!"

Joseph lined up another shot, but Elliot reached out a hand and slammed one of the sarcophagi through its offending mummy, shattering both.

Skye gave the other one a shove, causing it to go back several paces.

And then Kato ran forward, gave it several blows that made arms and legs useless, and nodded as it crumpled. "I believe we are done here. According to this there is something we need in Scaraba."

The though occurred to Elliot, finally, as he looked at the damage. "Oh, shit. How are we going to explain this to Early Light?"

"You aren't, gentlemen."

Elliot cursed silently and turned around. "Mister-"

"I've seen everything, Mister Fullerby. You are trying to keep this under your hat as much as possible. But they- whoever they are- clearly know you're here in Europe now. You must leave at the earliest opportunity. Something that won't attract attention like your little flying saucer did."

"Well, the favorite way would by boat, then. But we..." Elliot paused, smirked. "No, I think we have a way."

"Sir?" Kato asked.

"Don't bother, just follow me." He tromped down the stairwell and out of the museum at near-top speed. Kato kept up easily, and the others were sort of dragged behind.

"Fearless Leader, I did not know you had mastered jit-daan as well."

"Jit-daan? What the hell is that?" Elliot asked.

"Well-"

"He's talking about psychic shields," Joseph said, helpfully.

"Oh." Elliot nodded. "Anyway, we're here."

The captain was in, sitting in a bit of a funk. "Well, I would, but we have no one else who will sail with us. It is unfortunate."

Kato was looking at a slip of paper Joseph had handed him. "We wish to reach Scaraba. There is a smuggler's port west of the Nile, correct?"

The man's eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?"

Joseph smirked. "We have our ways, sir, we are after all, sophonts."

Elliot took over. "Of course, we would be willing to pay for passage."

"No need. I know the precise place you wish to land. And you saved my wife. That is enough for me to repay a favor." He paused. "You can deal with the Kraken?"

"If we can't, we're all dead anyway," Elliot replied.

"An excellent point! We make for Scaraba!" He paused. "Though I had... Better inform my wife."

"Go, go, we can wait an hour; we need to get all our things together."

The ship on the dock was waiting just as it was before they had gone to the Stoic Club.

The remaining half an hour was mostly spent trying to decide on a game that would allow it to remain fair while still not being caught by the problems of an ocean-going vessel.

They'd just decided on a rotating game of bridge when the captain arrived.

"You are here," the captain said. "Good. I've got several who are desperate for work. It may not be a smooth voyage."

"I wasn't expecting it to be," Elliot replied. "But let's get going." He paused. "Do you have a harpoon?"

"A harpoon?" the captain laughed. "No. But I have packed some rebar."

Elliot looked confused. "How did you know-"

"I didn't. A man in a black suit gave it to me. Do you know him?"

"Only professionally," Joseph cut in.

Elliot ignored it. "How many?"

"Count them yourself if you're so interested."

Elliot shrugged, picked up the bundle- struggled a little under the weight, and hauled it aboard. "Come on, we're burning daylight."

All the men were staring at him. "What?"

Captain Machoiades cleared his throat politely. "That took three men to haul here."

Elliot paused, dropping it on the deck. "Oh, my back!"

"You fool no one," the captain added. "You get to haul things now."

"Aw, man..."

They set sail, Elliot hauling the anchor up. He arrived in the cabin. "So, how do we play?"

A few moments later, Kato paused, looking at Skye. "This... Was not the hand I expected."

"How do you mean?"

Thus began a crash course in the basic customs of bridge; Kato had just gotten Skye through the idea when the ship started to lurch unnaturally.

"It would appear we have intruders, Fearless Leader."

The ship lurched again. Cries of alarm filtered down the cabin. "Appear nothing," Elliot said. "Get to the deck! Now!"

The game was forgotten in the darkness. Spotlights searched the water, the moon nowhere in sight. Elliot picked up a length of rebar from where it had been secured. "Okay, let's see if this works... CUT THE LIGHTS!"

A moment for his eyes to adjust, improved by the fact he had removed his sunglasses just after the order had been implemented. "Where are you..." Elliot whispered, concentrating even as his senses seemed to extend-

There! To the right! The length of rebar lifted and shot out of Elliot's hand, propelled by invisible force. It hit one of many waves, which suddenly welled up, and let out an immense cry.

"Got you..." Elliot picked up another length of rebar.

The rebar Elliot had thrown was sticking out of it at an odd angle. Joseph had to keep adjusting his aim. "Steady, damn it!"

Kato paused, adjusting his stance slightly to call up the jit-daan, then leapt- an amazing arc- that laned right on the gigantic thing's snout.

The roar of flame from its mouth in an attempt to shake Kao illuminated its features. Dark like a good burgundy, it seemed almost like an extension of the Ionian, but its glaring teeth and blue underside gave it away. Great and scaled, it could almost be described as an odd sort of giant eel.

"This is no kraken..." Elliot said, trying to find something he could pierce with the rebar. Everyone ignored him as the fight started in earnest; Joseph opened fire with his new weapon, which seemed to scorch it if nothing else.

Kato caught something- a shoe? He shrugged and jammed it into the kraken's nose.

It didn't like that much. Kato landed on his back, hard. Elliot launched several lengths of rebar into its mouth. It thrashed. The boat lurched to port. Everyone standing fell over. Elliot lifted another length.

Joseph regained his feet. "GRENADE!" THOCK. BWAM.

This last finally seemed to discourage the monster, as it quieted down and went beneath the waves. If it still haunted the Ionian, there have been no reports.

Sleep came next, followed by a day of field repairs, followed by a crash course in bridge communication by Kato.

"So, in that case, I should bid three hearts?"

"No, Fearless Leader..."

Skye looked at the hand. "Nope, two spades. See, you're stronger in spades here than you are in hearts, especially since you know Kato can take seven."

Elliot blinked. "Oh." He shook his head. "This doesn't make much sense."

"You've got some of the ideas, you just need to put them together-"

A knock on the cabin. "We're almost there. Pack it up."

The entire crew was there to see them off at the beachhead.

Elliot took stock of what they had. His rebar hadn't seen much use; he still had six left. After a moment's consideration, he left half of them behind, and fashioned one of them into a walking-stick. "This'll do."

The others nodded, did their final checks, before stepping off into the smuggler's port on the western bank of the Nile.

"So what now?"

"Now, I finish translating the hieroglyphs," Kato replied. "It might take a day or two."

About five seconds later, he handed Elliot a finished manuscript. "This is a day or two?"

"This is a rough draft."

Elliot looked it over, handed it to Joseph. "What do you think?"

"I think it'll be a bitch to get to whichever pyramid it's thinking of." Joseph paused. "Especially if it's near the cataracts, like I suspect."

"Damn." Elliot paused. "Anybody got a jeep?"

"Think harder, Elliot."

"Let me see that again." Elliot took it back from Joseph. "Well, it shouldn't be too hard. We just need to find a pentacle of tombs near a sphinx. Joseph, could you-"

"No, I can't. There's not even LEO satellites I can abuse."

"BS, there's always something."

"Look, I'm telling you there's nothing to hijack."

"How can you be so-"

Joseph took off a green visor and passed it to Elliot. "See? No bars. We'd have to wait a few hours for the local polar orbit- if we're lucky."

Elliot passed it back. "Keep us posted. I want that map information. Skye, see if you can dowse for it."

"Do you have a piece of it?" Skye asked.

"Not really..."

"Then I can't help you." She shook her head. "Even if I did, it'd only be directional."

"It would have been better than nothing." Elliot shrugged. "In a word, shit."

Kato nodded. "At least we know it is south of here."

"Kato," Joseph said, "So is eighty percent of Scaraba!"

"A minor detail," Elliot recovered. "So south to the cataract and then what?"

"I guess we'll find out when we get there." Joseph paused. "I think I have a contact. I'll go check it out."

"How-?"

"It's a smuggler's port. Of course I have a contact," Joseph waved off, walking down the worn path in the sand.

"Of course," Kato said, pausing. "I'll work on the translation."

"Well, what does that leave us?" Elliot asked.

Skye poked him in the ribs. "You, sir, need to learn how to play poker."

"Against a telepath?"

"Can you think of a better way to learn mighty quick?"

"Yeah, but we're not playing for money."

"Of course not. Got matches?"

Finding a small hovel they could rent, They dragged Kato to it and started to lay their plans south. "Ideally, we'd rent a helicopter, or have a good, recent satellite picture. But that's not going to happen. We don't have the money for a helicopter in the desert and Joseph can't contact a satellite."

"I'm working on it," Joseph said. "I think I managed to find an LEO north, just on the horizon. It'll take some doing, but I think I can manage."

"What, a TV GIGO?" Skye asked. "How are you going to avoid disrupting-"

"It screams in every direction, Skye. I think I can manage at least one bounce." Joseph sighed. "It's just going to take an awfully long time."

"Well, we have certain geography to go by," Kato noted. "A sphinx, for instance, and that particular arrangement of small tombs near a large one... That and it must be near a cataract."

"Right, near the cliffs into Upper Scaraba, because of that Stairway."

"Exactly."

Joseph started to pass into immense calculation, almost in a trance as his visor flicked down and started to flicker immensely. He was looking out the north window. His hands typing in the air, precisely, certain. "Okay, I'm in."

"In what?"

"NASA's map of the earth..." A pentagram flashed on the right side of his visor, while a dun color seemed to shit in front of the other. "It's still going to take a while, provided the sky remains clear."

"Joseph, we're near the Sahara, and in the Mediterranean. I don't think it'll be much of a problem in mid-summer," Elliot replied.

"Nevertheless."

"We'll still need a way to cover that much ground in such a short time..." Kato said.

"I can run well. How are you at speed with jit-daan?" Elliot asked.

"At speed? How do you mean?"

"How fast can you run? It has to be at least 88 miles per hour, you teleported in."

Skye chuckled. "88 miles an hour."

"This is another one of those Eaglelander things, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah." Elliot smirked. "It's kind of heavy. At least, that's what Doc told me."

"I'm not a doctor," Joseph replied.

"Can we move back to the central question? My teleportation speed is slightly over one hundred seventy kilometers per hour. I'm fairly certain I could keep up that pace for several hours."

"Well, it's a few hundred miles at least to our destination, so we'll have to move that fast."

"What about the sand?"

"Damn. I-" Elliot blinked. "We'll be traveling near the Nile, the sand won't be a problem."

"Dude, no we won't," Joseph said. "The authorities don't like us much."

"Crud." Elliot rubbed his forehead. "There has to be some way we can do this..."

"We could commandeer a boat," Joseph offered.

"No. Remember, we're trying to avoid detection. We need to keep Pokey guessing." Elliot paused. "We need to keep everyone guessing. It's better if no one knows where we are. As soon as we have our next destination, we need to leave."

"This would be so much easier if we had that helicopter Pokey had..."

"Wait, that reminds me, how did Pokey get to Summers before we did?" Elliot asked. "We took a death trap at just under mach, no way he could keep up with us in a helicopter even if-"

"We had to travel to get it, remember?" Joseph said.

"And then there were the few days we had in Winters, waiting on our passports."

"Okay, guys, then how did he cross the Atlantic?"

"The Viking way- Maine to Greenland to Iceland to Norway to Summers to... Well, I'm not sure."

"Offhand, I'd say here," Skye remarked.

Elliot nodded. "All right. So why's he leading us?"

"Does it matter?" Kato asked.

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Elliot nodded.

Brief digging proved that yes, Pokey had been here and that no, there wasn't anyone controlled here- at least, to look at them.

"Well, the way leads south..." Elliot noted.

"Then south we must go, Fearless Leader."

Elliot's fear pounded through him for a moment. This was something he'd dreaded having to do ever since he heard Scaraba was a possibility. "Then by foot it is. We'll have to deal with the problems as we run into them."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Kato asked.

"Actually, I'm sure it's not. But we're short on time if we want to stop Pokey, and we're out of options."

Skye looked at him. "You really don't want to have to kill him, do you?"

"Who is this Pokey, Fearless Leader?"

"Do you want to explain, or should I?" Elliot asked Skye. "Just as much your enemy as mine, now."

"He's your friend."

"Fine." Elliot took a moment to explain- again- the times he had with Pokey, adding in- deliberately- the problem at the Stoic Club.

"This explains much. Fearless Leader, I do not believe this Pokey is the center of our problem."

"But we have no way to track the main threat down without him," Elliot said. "And he is a servant. He's said as much."

"True, for now. Is there anyone else who could help?"

Joseph, Skye, and Elliot all looked significantly at the phone on Elliot's hip.

Five minutes later, they found a phone. "Apple Kid. Who is this?"

"Hey, this is Joseph. About the yogurt machine, thanks, but there's one-"

"You want to know who's behind all these attacks." It wasn't a question. "I'm working on it. I'll contact you when I have more information. I know it's some sort of alien invasion, and that the commander is, indeed, some force named Giygas. The problem is access... If I only had some way to talk to someone important. Dr... Andonuts... For favorite..."

"I'll see what I can do to bring him around," Joseph said, quickly, hanging up the phone and looking at Elliot. "We have an in."

"We can't depend on it," Skye put in. "We can't afford to wait. Pokey won't."

Joseph nodded. "There are two possibles- one next to the Nile, and one several miles further west. I'd want a closer look before we decide."

"Then let's go. Nightfall. Tonight. For now, look for shelters. We'll need water, too- I don't trust the Nile as far as I can throw it." Elliot paused. "Even less, actually. Everyone, keep your eyes open."

As the sun set, the port was disbanding. No one wanted to be caught on the west side of the Nile at night. Not even the smugglers.

This suited Elliot just fine, who nodded at Kato. The clothing was a sort of dark brown, the better to blend in with the soil and the area around them.

"Everybody clear on what needs to be done?" Elliot asked.

Everyone else nodded.

"Then let's get to work."

The first march was at speed. Kato carried Skye, Elliot carried Joseph, by mutual agreement; at least, until both of them started to get out and run with them.

Elliot called a halt. "Okay, Skye, I get. But you, Joseph? What's the deal?"

Joseph put a finger to his lips. "That is my little secret. But I think we're good for now."

"Let's keep running then." Elliot was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Patrols seemed to not notice them. Normal, human, patrols, anyway, didn't notice them as they motored south up the Nile.

Elliot skidded to a halt. "Oh, hell no. Not these bastards."

It was the UFO. Oh, sure, it was a little wider, a strange new color- probably some new alloy, but there was no doubt these were the same damn UFOs he'd faced back in Saturn Valley- or more of their ilk.

They broke off, strafing Elliot in particular. Apparently they didn't like him much, either.

Skye's response was first; one went down in a chunk of ice, shattering on impact. Joseph's answering beams split the night, taking down the other.

"Tch." Elliot lowered the rebar. "Everyone all right?"

"You were the only one they hit," Kato replied.

"Let's keep going," Elliot said, stretching out a little. Joseph took the opportunity to collect further samples of the metal before them, and salvaged the intact power source of the one he shot down.

Elliot kept trying to shrug off the slight twinge in his leg as they continued, but as it became shooting pain he called a halt, pulling up some sand.

"Elliot we should have dealt with this a half hour ago..." Joseph said, looking over the wound. "You've been ripping it open. Give it a moment to let it heal over."

"I can keep going-"

"Not if you're dead, you idiot!" Joseph interrupted, concern in his face. "The doctor warned you about this!"

"Whoa whoa, what doctor?" Skye asked.

"Oh, it during that whole kidnapping thing," Elliot waved off. "You know, was running off to Talah Rama, got a little road rash."

"He collapsed from exhaustion while running and broke several bones," Joseph translated.

"It really wasn't that bad, I managed to absorb-"

A knife thunking near his feet silenced him. "Wasn't this something we could have been informed of back in Fourside? You know, when you had me in a headlock? In fact that seems almost the ideal time for you to add in something like 'Oh, I almost died, too,' wouldn't you think?"

"What? I get hospitalized a lot. Sometimes I feel like half of my job description is 'Medical Miracle'."

"Speaking of medical miracles, it was amazing your leg didn't flay itself apart," Joseph responded.

"Not really, it was with the grain and more of a burn wound than anything major," Elliot replied, standing up. "In any case, I'm all better; now can we go?"

"Take a closer look, Fearless Leader," was all Kato said. "Keep yourself aware."

Elliot looked at it. Tch. Infected. A brief sensation of burning later, and it was healed and ready to go. "Okay, let's jet."

The sun was almost ready to rise in the morning twilight when they came to an enclosure, where they hid out and waited for the sun to set. Sleep came to them all in turn, Kato the last and most watchful long into the morning.

Kato went through his morning routine before they set out again at sunset. Jet lag had allowed him to rest better than the others; there was nevertheless a sense of weariness that pervaded the entire party, evidenced in the silence of every member.

The first UFO to poke its head over the horizon buzzed over them. Kato readied the jit-daan, reinforcing it immediately in preparation of the coming threat.

The beams seared the sands, skittering off Kato's jit-daan even as everyone spread out. Kato nodded. "I have you."

The shield suddenly contracted, growing brighter until it was about the size of a large marble, or perhaps a jawbreaker. Kato pointed to the UFO, and a beam of coherent force blew right through it. "Moving on."

The night wore on, and in short order they arrived, finally, at the cataracts to Upper Scaraba.

And then, along the cataract wall, not half a mile from the great river, they found what must be their destination.

The four minor tombs were headed on the west by a large sphinx. Surprisingly, there was a large foundation that covered them all. Stone under sand, extending for hundreds of feet, untouched by time, blowing away on an eastern wind.

And behind that, a great pyramid, built into the wall of the great cliff above them. Joseph was looking at it with a more practiced eye, and nodded, holding out his hand for the sheet. Kato handed it to him.

He read it again.

And again.

"You must be joking..." Joseph looked around, trying to find what it was talking about. He started constructing something out of odd ends and parts, clearing the foundation even more. "Now let's see here..."

A search of the area turned up two concentric circles, inside which were a series of impossibly complex pressure plates. The hieroglyphs said nothing about them.

"What does it even mean..." Joseph said. "There are pressure plates, and we're told to dance, but I can't figure out the sequence."

"Well, there's nothing for it, then." Elliot paused, carefully stepping over the marked plates, standing in the center.

"Hold on! We still don't know what it does!" Joseph shouted.

"There's nothing else to do," Elliot shrugged. "I've got to try something."

So Elliot danced.

Elliot felt the world around him fade from view, becoming a twisting, odd shell of himself, feeling the pulse of the Nile flow through him, the pounding of the waterfall guiding his steps in an inexorable rhythm. He found himself loving the dance, even as he was swept away by it.

Elliot danced.

Skye couldn't tear herself away from the sight- it was almost unnatural, how he moved, but there was something... Primal, something that scratched and tore at the underside of her mind, the dance of life long forgotten by human hands, human minds.

Elliot danced.

Kato remained resolute, standing guard over the place while the other three were enraptured... There was something there, in the depths of himself, that he shut away even as he felt its stirrings. Who was the fearless leader, that he could embrace what Kato dare not?

Elliot danced.

And Joseph could not tear himself away from the sight, the coruscating lines and echoes creating the music that Elliot could only feel, Skye could only imagine, and Kato could only wonder at.

Elliot danced.

And Mother Earth danced with him.

The door opened.

They were there.

End Chapter 32: Dark Moon, High Tide


	33. Africa

**Chapter 33: Africa**

Elliot could feel it, the deep, abiding pulse of the earth beneath him. He drew from it, even as it drew from him, and for the briefest of moments, his eyes were open to its power- stoic, calming, but ruthless, cleansing, burning its way to peace.

And its tune was... Familiar, somehow...

Kato shook him out of it. "Fearless Leader, our way is open."

Elliot blinked, as the pulse of the earth was torn from his senses, the water of the cataracts replacing the steady rhythm of years. "Damn it."

"Pardons, but the gate looks about to close," Kato intoned.

Elliot looked over. "Oh, crap. Come on!"

The surprising thing about pyramids, of course, is not that they are very large. Very large things are not too hard to imagine, in fact. The mind sort of sheets away from the sheer size and implants in the brain the idea of 'very big'.

What is surprising about pyramids- especially the Scaraban burial pyramids- is just now much space they waste. In fact, the bigger they are, the more space they waste.

The pyramid Elliot, Skye, Joseph, and Kato now found themselves in was the size of one of the lesser cataracts leading from Lower Scaraba to Upper Scaraba.

Compared to the total size of the object, they might as well have found themselves inside a postage stamp.

Elliot took a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the total darkness. It smelled faintly of dust and dry rot here. He put on the helmet and armor he had gotten back in Fourside. For a moment, he let the sounds and echoes give him a good picture of what was ahead.

There are several things to remember about the Scaraban pyramids. As above, they are cramped. They are dusty. They are quite large, sometimes. But most importantly, the biggest are burial grounds for many, many people besides the honored. If the Transcontinental Railroad was a river and road of blood and pain, this was a pool- a pool that had been stagnating, festering, and hating everything around it for thousands of years. Elliot touched the wall of the pyramid, and did not remember much of anything of the next desperate moments.

Skye, however, saw Elliot touch the wall, and had grabbed him before he hit the floor. "Moron!" She looked around. "Kato, can you carry him?"

Kato paused, nodded. "Of course."

Skye drew her knives. "Joseph, give us some light."

Joseph turned on the floodlights attached to his backpack. The walls seemed to pulse with every breath, but Joseph shook it off as just his imagination.

Skye paused. "Kato, let me see that translation."

Skye read it aloud: "This is our last defense, the great pyramid we built with mental power and mental pain. We sought to defeat the Great Destroyer, to no avail. Force of arms cannot hope to win against him. But here, we guard what is needed for the Warrior. Saviors, Savior himself, dance in front of the sphinx. Warrior, prove your worth within, and your Hawk's Eye will come to all."

She folded the paper carefully, and put it in her teddy bear backpack, filed closely next to a small set of razors and a few 3x5 index cards. Skye looked at Joseph, looked at Kato. "Can we wake Elliot up?"

Kato shook his head. "It's beyond my ability."

"I don't have anything that could help him," Joseph said.

Skye took a deep breath. She hadn't forseen what would happen inside the pyramid... "Fine, until he comes to on his own, I'll go on ahead. Don't. Touch. Anything."

Kato had Elliot slung over his back; Joseph had taken the liberty of hauling Elliot's equipment. That alone gave Skye pause. "How are you lifting his stuff and yours anyway?"

"Magic," was Joseph's only reply. Skye shrugged and continued on, with Joseph lighting the way.

Funny, the way the walls moved, it was almost like the snakes drawn on the walls were alive. Joseph looked at one of them. It tricked the eye, like you could reach out and touch them-

Suddenly, the one he'd been looking at burst into flame, blackening and seeming to writhe in the smoke. "Joseph! What did I just tell you!"

Joseph's hand snapped back. He couldn't believe he'd almost done that. He paused, looking at the other hieroglyphs. "They really are pulsing, aren't they?"

Kato looked at them, and nodded. "Yes."

"No, not really, but they might as well be, so don't touch it." Skye kept her knives out. "Weapons ready."

Together, they climbed the long steps to the central chamber. There were many sitting here, preserved well, with canopic jars lining every wall.

Preserved so well, in fact, that they proved quite able to move on their own.

Skye looked around, and set them all aflame. She paused, looking at the large seal in the center. "We can't move it here. If Elliot were awake..."

"But he is not, milady. He's starting to fever, as well," Kato noted.

"Protect your liege, like you swore," Skye responded.

Kato paused, blinked, and nodded. "Of course. I'll see what I can do." Kato touched Elliot's forehead. "Hm. It seems he's in a lot of pain. Fear." As always it was absolutely deadpan, but did Skye detect a hint of hesitation?

Skye picked one of the areas at random, and set off up the stair. "This way..."

'This way' led to a dead end of a chamber, holding several more of the shattered men.

Kato, however, seemed to know exactly what to do, separating its force from its body, though he had to take a quick moment to adjust Elliot to make the proper movements. It slowly collapsed and crumbled. Skye nodded, turning her eyes to the shattered bodies in front of her. "The jars!"

Joseph nodded, reached behind him. "Spectrum cannon."

An old cannon folded out of his backpack, easily into his hand, polished to a dull shine, which reflected off the floodlights. A blast of light ripped through the fragile canopic jars. The mummies collapsed, ruined.

Everyone looked at Skye. She looked back at them. "Not here. Come on, let's head back."

Joseph nodded. "And remember. Don't. Touch. Anything."

"Thanks, Indy." Skye shook her head. "Come on, shine a light down here..."

"Isn't he Joseph, Milady?" Kato asked, hauling Elliot on his back.

"Not the point." Skye beckoned them onwards into the darkness. At the central site, she looked at the seal again. "Hm... Joseph, take a look, is there a mechanism?"

Joseph pulled up his lenses. "Damn, this place is crazy."

"Adjust."

"Why don't you dowse for it?" Joseph asked.

Skye demonstrated, putting a knife on a string and dangling it. Almost as soon as it dropped, it lifted up slack and tried to stab Kato, tugging desperately at the rope. Skye pulled it back in with considerable effort. "That's why."

"Don't let go of anything, got it." Joseph slowly adjusted the visor to compensate, slowly dealing with the flux. Frustrated, he switched off the energy readings as useless. "Bah!" Joseph walked up to the seal. "Of course the damned thing has a mechanism! It's on a track! Look here! Are you entirely dense? I could have this apart in five minutes, and hang the curse-"

Kato cleared his throat. "Joseph, perhaps now is not the best time to indulge."

"Foolishness! I could bring this whole place down, just give me ten-"

"With _us inside it_, Joseph," Kato responded.

"A minor matter, all I need to figure out is the hyperspatial portal Elliot has and-"

Kato took a deep breath, stood, and looked at Joseph. "Stop this foolishness. Now."

Joseph actually stopped, quietly hopped down, and looked at Kato. "In any case, there should be a switch about here somewhere."

Skye had thought that, once upon a time, in the dark times of mankind when there was no real history, there was some line of men that could command the skies themselves with a word, or stop forces of nature with sheer force of will. It helped her sleep that maybe she wasn't alone among history.

Only now, she could actually believe it, and didn't like the thought. Not at _all_. "This way leads downwards."

Downwards they went, the pure malevolence almost seeming to drip from the walls and the ceiling. Skye shuddered a little with every step, but she couldn't turn around. Damned if she was going to give in to some angry so-and-so who bloody well invited her in the first place! Warrior, Savior and Emperor, she was a Seer!

Wait.

She paused, blinked into the darkness.

"What's wrong? Something ahead?" Joseph asked, shining a light into the darkness.

She paused, got an odd look of realization on her face, and pointed at Kato. "Emperor."

Pointed at Elliot. "Many things, but I've seen Savior, and I've seen Destroyer."

Pointed to Joseph. "The Light. Be it of Reason, or of Hope, or of Ingenuity."

And then she pointed to herself. "Seer, but..." She paused, thought for a moment. "I've never heard of a Seer who travels with the hero like this. I don't make sense. Unless..."

"Unless?" Kato prompted, the barest hint of- was that pride?- showing on his face.

"Unless-" She looked Kato dead in the eyes again. "Kato, what did the translation call for?"

"A Savior and a Warrior-"

Skye snapped her fingers, looking down the corridor with a slow, knowing smile creeping across her face. "Okay. I think I know what I need to do now. Come on, it'll be at the end of this corridor."

True to her word, there was a small chamber, in which rested three giants, made apparently of stone and pure anger. Kato was about to drop Elliot, and Joseph readied the Spectrum Cannon, but Skye held up a hand. "Wait. Let me do this. Kato, can you get me in your mental field?"

"Hm? It's possible, but-"

"Do it. Now."

Kato paused, shrugged his shoulders, and nodded.

A dim white glow surrounded Skye, and she ran forward to meet the challenge, knives drawn, extending her telepathy to meet the opponents' minds.

There, she found them alarmingly open- they didn't even have the regular defenses of a human, just straight, pure, conscious intent to kill. She drank the thoughts of these guardian machines and she could swear she smelled and tasted blood.

Skye licked the top of her teeth under her lips, the guardians shaking the ground of the pyramid as they advanced. She smiled.

Their strike came first. Skye lifted herself off the ground into a flip directly over the hands of one, extending her leg to break its shoulder.

It didn't work as well as she would have hoped, but considering the forces involved she was lucky not to break her own leg in the process. She kicked off, knives still in hand and landed behind the second guardian.

"Not like me, fool," Kato intoned, from somewhere in the darkness.

That's right, she wasn't the Emperor. Skye was something far more savage.

The second guardian struck just as she knew it would. No flip this time, just a leap, back arched, fit to drive one knife deep into its apparent skull.

Crouched over its head, upon its shoulders, Skye let go of the cold-

The spike of ice split it from the top of its skull to the base of the pelvis, she already knew. Skye leapt off, but there was a bit of a spin. No matter. She made it go faster_. _

The first guardian was back now, she still hung in the air. No use dodging, no need to. With a thought, Skye let go of the heat-

The fire wave abruptly reversed her direction, stopped her spin, and broke the first guardian from within.

Skye landed with her back to the third.

She didn't even turn to face it as it made to strike. Skye made a great leap into the air, her legs tingling with the electricity beneath her- above her-

Skye let go of the lightning, at the same time her foot connected with the third guardian. The resultant shock broke arm from shoulder, tore leg from hip, and the guardian collapsed, useless.

Skye landed on her feet, one knife still in her hand, when she realized that the shoe she had used for the lightning strike was smoldering. Quickly, she got it off her foot. "ow ow ow ow ow HOT!" She removed the sock on the same shoe, which was threatening to catch.

Joseph could only sit and stare. "What the hell did you just do?" he exclaimed, running up to her.

Skye could still taste the blood, and it was good. "Nothing you haven't seen before," she replied with a grin. "Kato, could you see to the burns? Can't walk on blisters very well."

She looked over the shoe as Kato took a closer look. Useless, now- the sole had nearly melted, scorched and burned through. "Joseph."

"Yes?" Joseph asked, still in shock.

"Do you have a better insulating material than pure rubber that's suitable for shoe material?"

"I think so." Joseph paused.

"Then do it." Skye looked at her poor benighted shoe and sighed. "The panel's behind the last guardian, I spotted it on my way down."

Joseph stepped on it. "Are you sure this is right?"

Kato nodded at Skye and she stood up. "It better be, 'sall I gotta say."

When they returned, the seal was open. She nodded, and they all jumped down at once. Skye felt them leap into discontinuity-

Hundreds of images, all a once. She'd had times like this before. Where the visions themselves overwhelmed all your senses and it was all you could do to keep from screaming in time with the pained voices of the damned-

She paused, reached for the knife, stabbed it into the back of her hand.

The pain cleared Skye's vision, a little- just enough that she could see the others were struck just as badly as she was, if not worse. There was a pedestal. She started to move toward it, shaking her head to try and clear it.

Skye could see it, dimly, the stone, tear-drop shaped. It must be the Hawk's eye. But it was under so many layers of illusion and delusion, power and price... And of course, death. Death of friends, of family, of those dearest to her.

Skye walked right through them all, picked up the Hawk's eye, and concentrated.

The illusions faded from view. Skye nodded, and removed the knife from the back of her hand. It bled terribly. She would deal. She always did.

Slowly, Kato and Joseph began to stir, blink, clear their eyes.

Joseph stood up, then Kato.

Elliot lay in a heap on the floor, and Kato was about to pick him up when Elliot pushed himself onto his own two feet. "Well, that was unpleasant..."

Kato saw to Skye's hand, while Skye just stared at Elliot.

"So, where are we, anyway?"

"We're at the end of the pyramid," Skye said. Kato nodded at her and she walked up to Elliot.

Elliot was shaky on his feet. "Wow, how long was I out?"

"A little under five hours," Joseph said.

"More importantly," Skye added in, "Just when were you planning on telling us you're a psychometer?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, you know how it goes, these things just 'come up' on those occasions when you're stupid enough to touch the wall of a goddamn tomb untrained." Skye put her hands on her hips.

Elliot looked at the hand. "And just when did you have another vision, miss I'm So Disciplined?"

"That was the fault of this place, Fearless Leader, not her," Kato put in. "Though I am unfamiliar with the term psychometer."

"It means he reads the past by touching things," Skye said. "It doesn't matter, we have stairs to climb.

It was uncertain how long they had been at the stairs when a wide spot presented a place to stop and shake their fatigue for a moment or two. Skye, especially, seemed to be holding up poorly; her shoe was still in the Pyramid, rendered absolutely unusable.

Surprisingly, Joseph seemed perfectly all right. Not even winded. He stretched out along with Kato, the differences in their routine obvious. Then he set out building... Something.

Eventually, they decided to sleep there, despite the stifling air.

Life came back to them slowly, and Joseph put a pair of white-paneled boots at Skye's bedroll. Skye smirked and put them on. They fit... Disturbingly well. What she had thought of as panels turned out to be some sort of highly flexible padding. They were more comfortable than her old shoes at any rate, and she was glad to have them.

It was midmorning by Joseph's watch, and late in the evening by their sleep calendar, when they started to suspect they were near the end of the stair.

The light was close now, the end of the stair in sight.

There, standing in the sunlight, was an old man, overshadowed by the sun. "Good morning. I am here to collect Kato."

~END: Africa~


	34. Thy Dungeonman

**Chapter 34: Thy Dungeonman**

"Now hold on here," Elliot told the old man to his face. "Don't sell me shit and call it gold, tell me why you need Kato."

"I need to teach him the true depths of his skills," the old man replied.

"Again, don't sell me shit!" Elliot said, raising his voice. "That's why he's here with us, isn't it?"

"It was," The old man said. "But a decision has been reached."

"Among who?"

Kato looked at the old man. "My ancestors. You have come here at the behest of my ancestors. What is so dire?"

"They and I see a grave warning in front of us. There is so much to do... So little time remaining."

Kato gave the old man a mild look. "Who are you, then, who is equal to my ancestors?"

The old man stood, suddenly, and the world seemed to dim for a moment in broad daylight as stars wheeled around him. "I have many names, many disciplines. Some call me the Master of Stars."

"You aren't seriously considering this, are you, Kato?" Elliot looked at him "I mean, come on, you don't know him from Adam-"

"I did not know you either." Kato's head bowed. "Fearless Leader, truly you live up to your name. I will not forget this."

"Oh, give me a break-"

Kato pushed past them. "I am ready."

"Do not worry," Star Master said. "He will return to you, when he has learned what I have to teach. No more, and no less. It will be soon. Watch to the skies!"

And with that, Star Master lifted Kato to the heavens, and they were gone.

Elliot threw his helmet down in disgust. "Great. Just fantastic. I should have known he'd be leaving as soon as he started to work with us." Elliot picked up his helmet, put it back on, and looked at their surroundings. He blinked. "Joseph, isn't the plateau of Africa a little more wet than this?"

"Yes, it is."

"And didn't we just climb up that plateau?"

"Supposedly..."

"Then riddle me this: Why the hell are we still in the desert!"

"In case you hadn't realized, Elliot," Joseph responded, "The Sahara is not necessarily something easily traversed. There are five more cataracts between us and the savanna."

Elliot considered this. "And how do you propose we climb five waterfalls and their attendant cliffs?"

"We'll burn that bridge when we come to it," Joseph answered.

Skye shook her head. "Don't you mean 'after we cross it'?"

"Bah! Details. Don't bother-" Joseph suddenly looked to the west. "Huh?"

"What's up, tech man?" Elliot asked.

"I've got a contact on radar."

"You have radar now?" Skye asked. "Damn, do you ever sleep?"

"Occasionally, mostly I do it while we're walking around," Joseph said, waving off the question.

"Never mind how you got radar for now- what's the contact?" Elliot asked.

"Not sure. It's like a building, only... It's moving." Joseph paused, shook his head. "Yeah, it's definitely moving. Damndest thing I ever did see."

"Wait. How big is it?" Elliot looked to the west.

"Huge. Like, I don't know, ninety meters, possibly a hundred and five?" Joseph paused. "Getting some faint seismic readings, too."

"Where's it going?"

"Hm, it seems to be coming towards us, actually, it's going to be heading a little south of us."

"Can we meet it?"

"No problem," Joseph said. "It's doing around seventy."

The projected path was something of a casual stroll- as casual as any stroll could get in the desert, anyway.

And then it started to come into view.

All of them looked at the head coming up over the horizon.

"Oh, you-" Elliot started.

"have to be kidding me," Skye finished.

Joseph just stood there, blinking to make sure he wasn't imagining it. "Oh, no. It can't be. No way."

"It can't be what?" Elliot asked.

"He couldn't have..." Joseph just stared at it. "Not in just two weeks..."

"What are you talking about?" Elliot asked.

"I'm going to try and hail it." Joseph held up a hand. "Antenna." A small dish with a pistol handle fed to his hand from his backpack; Joseph pointed it at the head that was stomping ever closer. "Hope this works..."

Joseph pulled down a microphone. "Opening frequencies on all radio channels. Calling Brick Road, Brick Road do you copy?"

Joseph paused, tried again. "Calling Brick Road. Brick Road, do you copy? This is Joseph Andonuts."

No answer. Joseph nodded his head a little in frustration. Looked down. Looked up. "Dungeon Man, Joseph Andonuts, do you copy?"

A moment, and then a response, "Copy, Andonuts, what in the world are you doing in the desert?"

Joseph lifted his headset. "Good, there aren't two people that crazy in the universe." He lowered it again. "Well, we're heading deep into Africa, think you can grant supply?"

"Supply? Copy, wilco. Mark position."

"Wilco, sending up green flare now." Joseph flipped up the headset, and with his other hand raised, called out, "Green flare."

A green-colored flare gun popped into his hand. Into the air. PTHOCK BOOF.

"Spotted, Andonuts, converging on your position, will meet one mile south."

"Understood." Joseph let the antenna slide into the backpack. "Okay, we have to head a mile south."

"Even further? Ugh, I got more sand than foot in my consies right now." Elliot distastefully dumped out the contents of said shoes before putting them back on.

"Should have asked for a custom pair," Skye smirked at Elliot, bouncing lightly on her new boots.

Elliot looked at them, then looked at Joseph. "What are those things, anyway?"

"Custom exotic materials. I have enough raw to make a pair for you if you like. Last shoes you'll ever need- I guarantee it." Joseph gave a goofy grin and a thumbs up.

Elliot didn't look impressed. "Would they stand up to my dead run without shielding?"

Joseph paused. "It'd take a bit of doing because of the separate requirements, but I think so."

"Done deal."

"I'll get my fabber on it as soon as we meet up with Dungeonman."

"Can't come soon enough, I'm ready to get some more damn sleep," Skye put in.

"No foolin'," Elliot replied.

Some more time passed in silence. The beginnings of a sand storm started to blow up around them; Jospeh passed out masks.

And then Elliot started to hear it, like a distant, ridiculously slow pillow-fight. Whoomph. Whoomph, whoomph, coming closer, and closer, the dust and sand in the air slowly obscuring everything in a miniature, artificial sandstorm.

Slowly, the dust settled, and everyone could hear a loudspeaker: "Hello? Joseph, are you there?"

"Yeah! Yeah, what's the problem?" Joseph's muffled voice shouted out.

"Quick quick, then, inside, inside..."

Elliot could hear a door sliding open; he walked in that direction. It was only at this moment that he understood just how immense this thing was. At first look, it seemed to be formed of sandstone, but that was all an ingrained coating of sand; Elliot rubbed his hand against it. He could see-

_"This might be irreversible." Dr. Andonuts? _He_ did this?_

_"Worth it." _

_"Very well. For science." _

_"Maybe for you." _

Skye grabbed his hand away from the surface. "Come on, Joseph's already inside."

"Right." Elliot climbed into the elevator, and it shut behind him. A small wait, and the doors opened.

Except for the pervading darkness, Elliot might as well have not left the outside, except perhaps that there were fewer things that could kill him here. It was still sandy, still filled with cliffs. And he could feel he was surrounded by history. He could smell it in the air, feel it in the earth, and after a quick check, he could even taste it in the water.

Elliot didn't notice when the lights came on, except that Skye was tapping him on the shoulder. "Wow. No wonder you never showed off. As a psychometer, you suck."

Elliot just stood, slack-jawed, staring at Skye. Finally, he managed to regain enough mental acuity to say "What."

"You heard me," Skye said. "At least I know how to break myself out of trances, Unconscious Boy."

"I'd rather not stab myself to wake up. Seems counterproductive." Elliot found a park bench and sat on it.

Skye sat next to him. "Pfft, I've come up with something better."

"Oh, well, then, I suppose-" Elliot looked down, then back at Skye. "Wait, when did you do that?"

"Back in Fourside."

"And you didn't inform me of this why?"

"I thought you knew!" Skye looked at him. "I mean you did show it to me."

Elliot leaned back, looking Skye over for overt signs of insanity. "When did I do that?"

"In Fourside, I told you already," Skye said, a little exasperated. "Really, you'd think that wouldn't escape you."

"Show me, Skye." Elliot looked at her. "Show me what you mean because I have no idea."

"Wait." Skye looked into Elliot's eyes, which he quickly covered over with his sunglasses.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Now I remember..." Skye reached out a hand.

"What are you doing, Skye?" Elliot scooted away from her. "This is starting to creep me out."

"It'll only take a second," Skye said, reaching over further to try and touch some portion of Elliot's skin.

Elliot fell off the bench, touched floor and bench, and saw-

_A hundred secret senses, all swirling, unfocused, sounds of construction, the feel of heat and metal singing in his veins, thousands, he couldn't see-_

_A cooling touch, a pink light. Skye. "Calm... Remember who you are. Your center is here." The light showed him something, and Elliot's eyes opened to something essential he'd never knew he'd lost. _

_He could feel himself again, and felt the work of hundreds of workers, all separate and individual and removed from him, as if a vast distance away._

The vision faded and Elliot stood up with Skye's help. "When did you learn that trick?"

"Like I said, Fourside. Your touch opened... I don't know, a path, and I saw this happening. Because I knew how to teach you now, I knew how to do it then."

Joseph paused. "Wait, so who learned it first? You or Elliot?"

"He did. But we learned at the same time, and I taught him. It's complicated."

"No, it's not." Joseph harrumphed. "A plasma cannon is complicated. That just breaks the laws of causality."

"Who cares?" Elliot said, raising his hands towards the ceiling of what he could only assume was the body of this robot. "I don't have to worry about touching things again! Do you know how annoying it is to have someone else's first kiss go through your head?"

Skye went red. "Oh, please tell me that wasn't me."

"It wasn't. That was Joseph." Elliot grinned. "By the way, cute boyfriend."

Joseph deadpanned, "Remind me to burn these clothes later."

"So why are you so embarrassed about your first kiss, Skye?" Elliot's grin went savage. "Let me guess, it was awkward and slobbery, with undertones of being forced upon you-"

"I'm damn well going to castrate something today, Elliot, do you really want to be first in line that bad?"

"Eh, we both know it'll grow back."

"Can we just get some sleep?" Joseph asked, pulling up a bivouac bag from his backpack. "You know, like we originally intended?"

"Oh... Yeah... Sleep..." Elliot's headache started to subside as he leaned against something and... Drifted... Off...

Somebody shook him awake- From the voice he guessed it was Skye- "Get up you idiot, you were damn near drooling on me."

Elliot blinked. "I was?" He looked at where Skye was sitting compared to him. His mind reconstructed, and touching her skin for a moment made it absolutely clear. "Wait, were you leaning on me this whole time?"

"No idea, don't care, what's to eat?" Skye got up and stretched.

"Espresso, croissants, eggs, fish, looks like..." Joseph said, looking at the vending machine in the wall.

"He's... Not exactly clear on the concept of a dungeon, is he?" Elliot said.

And then the sitar music started up.

Ten minutes later, the music started to cross-fade to a tense string piece. "Hold on," Joseph said, holding up a hand.

"What's up?" Elliot stopped and turned around.

"The background music changed." Joseph looked around. "Something's waiting for us."

It turned out to be... A duck. A really quite peculiar duck to be precise. Elliot booted it aside and moved on.

The climb provided convenient stairs to head up with, with a consistent clip-clop like two coconuts banging together. Elliot looked like he was about to say something, but Joseph put a hand on his shoulder. "Trust me, that's what he wants."

And so it went, until they realized that the floor was shifting around. "Are we moving?"

A voice came out over the PA. "I am a dungeon man after all! Walking is just one of my many talents!"

Skye sighed. "Like modesty?"

"Yes, precisely!" Dungeon Man kept walking, which caused them to stumble on the steps that were his spinal cord- Joseph felt himself slipping-

And caught by two hands, one from each of Skye and Elliot. A light push at the small of his back got him back up on the stairs. "I'm starting to think we should have taken the longer way up. We haven't had good luck with stairs lately."

"Long ways are for pansies."

They didn't know how long it was until they all got up to the head- arguably not as long as it would have took otherwise, though Joseph seemed to not be in agreement on that regard.

If the bowels looked like they were carved from the sandstone outside, the control room was the complete opposite, a cyberpunk author's wet dream wrapped in caves of steel wrapped in golden hopes and silver thoughts.

And in this room, there was a capsule, made out of the alien alloys Joseph has supplanted for his own, filled to the brim with all kinds of wires and control systems. And in the middle, there was a pod, made of what looked like glass, but was obviously far too resilient, for no mere glass could take the rumbling of this titan shaking the earth.

And in that pod was Brick Road.

"You made it then. Where to?"

"As far as I can tell, Brick Road, Pokey's heading south. Can you take us south?" Elliot asked.

"Yes, of course, anything for a friend of Dr. Andonuts's boy." The entire structure started to shift even faster. "You might want to hold on."

Several of the UFOs they had had such trouble with swirled outside Dungeon Man; and he swatted them aside like so much flies; Joseph could see he was sending out drones to collect them.

"Can I have some of that material?"

"I might have some left over after maintenance, yes. We'll be climbing a cataract shortly..."

"How did you know we needed to get up there?" Elliot asked, suspicious.

"Hm? A simple matter of deduction. I have access to a much higher level of intelligence..."

Elliot shrugged, but Joseph was gave pause to this thought. "You can think with the machine's brain? I thought this thing didn't have one..." Joseph said, eyes narrowing.

"Well, it does have certain functions that would be impossible without a semi-intelligent distributed network throughout my new body," Brick Road said, almost off-hand. "In fact, if I couldn't synchronize my neurology with the Suit's, I couldn't even move it."

Skye looked at Joseph. Joseph looked at Skye.

Skye spoke first. "We're checking every inch of these systems. Now."

"I'm already getting in," Joseph said.

"What's with the paranoia?" Elliot asked.

"Can... Can you just trust us on this one?" Skye asked.

"Okay, okay, fine, this is clearly something I just won't get, just do it."

Elliot was shaken awake, once again, as Joseph came back, clearly excited about something. "Oh, what is it now...?"

"He's stopped. Something's wrong."

"You're the gearhead, you do something about it..."

"I can't! I don't have enough bodies, come on, get up-"

Elliot got up. "Okay. Okay. What's the problem, Joseph. Slowly."

"Dungeon Man has become stuck near Lake Victoria."

Elliot blinked. "And your point would be...?"

Joseph just dragged him along to somewhere in the spinal column, where Skye was waiting. She pointed to a small panel. "Psychometry. Use it."

Elliot touched the panel, which he discovered was part of a conduit, what in turn supplied life support systems... That ran on... "Wait. So if people don't get caught by the dungeon's systems... The place- and his body- will shut down?"

Joseph nodded. "Looks that way."

"Isn't there some safety or something?"

"Well, there is a manual ejection, but it looks like it's stuck somewhere in the spinal cord..." Joseph sighed. "It's simply not possible for Brick Road to reach. There's a software override as well, but that's caused by a desire to leave. There's also the added potential of physical and mental trauma caused by a sudden desync, to say nothing of the balance issues."

"So... There's nothing we can do? He's just gonna die here? Why did you bother to tell me!"

"Now, now, Elliot," Joseph said, pushing up his glasses with a smug expression, "I didn't say that."

"Okay, have I mentioned that I really don't like this plan? Because I don't." Elliot hung by a rope, which itself was attached somehow to what remained of Mr. Links.

"On your end, it's actually quite simple," Joseph replied. "I'm doing the grunt work, you're just the backup plan."

"Forgive me if I'm not precisely comforted when I'm dangling over a bottomless pit!"

"It's not bottomless. From where you are, it's about three hundred feet to the bottom. You've survived a fall like that before," Joseph noted.

"That was in a safety web!" Elliot shouted. "And we were in a flying saucer!"

"Don't be such a wuss, Elliot," Skye said. "You can grow it back."

"Okay, one? You may not realize it but that stings like a bitch, and two? I don't know if I'm able to come back from liquefied!"

"And yet, it's certain neither of us can," Joseph put in.

Elliot sighed in frustration. "Just get to work!"

Joseph hurried up two flights of steps to a small port on the side. Damn this distributed network!

Skye was waiting, and got him hooked up even as Joseph started to compile and send. This was going to be delicate all around- something he had deliberately not told Elliot. There was no telling how the technology would react to something like Joseph poking around inside it.

The simplistic cryptography fell before his knowledge like wheat before a combine. How quaint, really; his father was using earth-based software when the alien might was so simple to analyze! Joseph began his bloody work- and in a moment, it was done, the soft firewall in place. "Well, that was easy."

Skye rubbed her eyes. "You did not just say that."

Joseph paused as alarms started going off in his headphones. He switched over to the energy signals. "What! His signal's going blue!"

"Damn it!" Skye already knew what was going on and rushed downstairs- If Elliot died in there-

Elliot desperately evaded the conduits that had seemed to come alive with inexorable force, tearing themselves to pieces to wrap around him, pull him apart, slash at him. He bounded from one end to the other, unable to find any sort of real purchase in the slick column. "Bad idea!"

He slammed one back into its housing with telekinesis, forcing the latch housings closed and curling the entire thing over to prevent further leaks. A second one clocked him, just as Skye got there.

Two more slammed back into their housings.

"What's going on!" Elliot cried, putting the last conduit in place with raw strength.

"He's gone blue! This entire machine is about to be subverted!"

"_DAMMIT!_ Why is it that _nothing_ ever seems to work right!" Elliot started hauling himself up the rope.

"No, stay down there, we need you to hit the manual eject!"

"... You're joking." Elliot's eyebrow twitched. "Fine, I'll do it. Where is it?"

"It should be about fifteen feet below you, a major red handle dealie."

"I see it, what's the signal?"

Joseph's voice came up over the intercom. "_Just pull the goddamn switch, Elliot!_"

"Pulling!" Elliot reached out to it with one hand, and it was pulled towards him, with a mental shove, he moved it down.

And broke it. "... Of course. Joseph! How's Brick Road? He all right?"

"_He's coming out of berserk... Life signs have returned to normal. Sync is dropping_."

"Dropping? Not cut off?" Skye shouted.

"_Apparently there are backups, I don't know what's going on._"

"Can I come up or not!" Elliot shouted.

"_Yeah, go ahead._"

"Of all the crazy, hare-brained, idiotic design schemes... Who puts a damn emergency cut-off someplace like that? Seriously?" Elliot finally fell back onto the top access deck.

"Wow, Elliot, you smell terrible."

Elliot just glared at Skye. "Really? That's what you're going with. Not you know, 'are you all right' or 'would you like directions to a shower'? Seriously, do I not even rate that?"

"Like those are any less snarky," Skye smirked. "Face it, LCL just plain does not look good on you."

"... What are you TALKING about? What the hell is LCL?"

"_That's not important. Both of you need to get up here, Brick Road wants to talk to you._"

The first thing Brick Road asked Elliot as he made his way up the stairs at last was "Why are you covered in orange Tang?"

Elliot shuddered a grimace of disgust. "Never mind that. You needed to talk to me?"

"Yes, well. The Dungeon Man is stuck. Very stuck. I can't cross Lake Victoria. As it stands, it looks like it'll be years before I can get Dungeon Man repaired."

"Repaired?" Elliot's eye twitched. "You. You are not going to repair this thing. No. And how the hell are we supposed to follow Pokey's trail now?"

"Well, I do have an old ALVIN submersible in my hold. I think it might work," Brick Road replied.

"First, shower. Where is it," Elliot asked.

"Down that way-"

Twenty minutes later, Elliot looked cleaner, and definitely felt a lot less like a giant glob of orange Tang.

"It'll get us across?" Elliot asked, looking at the Cold War legacy exploration sub.

"Everything looks like it's in the right places..." Joseph replied. "The pain in the butt's gonna be getting her to the lake."

"Can you open a hatch?" Elliot asked. "One that'll admit the sub?"

"Well, yeah, but it's not on tracks, how are we going to move it?"

"Just. Open the hatch." Elliot looked at the sub, judging its weight and heft. "It is a straight shot from here, right?"

"Hm? Yeah. This hangar as added after, mostly this was used as a staging area for the other bits of construction."

Said hatch opened into the bright, intensely cold day, and the cold came flooding in. Elliot zipped up his leather jacket. He held one hand, palm up, empty. And then he lifted.

It was almost as effortless as stopping Pokey's helicopter, and he flicked his wrist forward-

Elliot heard a faint creak, then felt a rush of oncoming air. He laid himself flat just in time to see the ALVIN go inches past his head- Reached out desperately with his mind to catch it before it fell.

Joseph gave Elliot the hairy eyeball.

"Okay, okay, I'll be more careful with it..." Elliot said with a sheepish smile.

Joseph just shook his head and walked out to direct the sub's drop.

~END~


End file.
